


Not Broken, Just Bent

by polynya



Series: The Heart is a Muscle [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Banter, Eating, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Getting Back Together, Missing Scene, Paperwork, Rebuilding, Shinigami/Zanpakutou Bond, Slow Burn, Squad 6 is jerks, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17977262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polynya/pseuds/polynya
Summary: Those darn ryoka have gone back to the World of the Living, and everything is back to normal. Except Rukia still doesn't have her powers back, her brother has put her on house arrest, and assigned his dumb lieutenant to watch over her. Can Renji help her restore her zanpakuto and maybe their friendship as well?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes places shortly after the Soul Society Arc.
> 
> Title comes from that classic work of poetry, Just Give Me a Reason,by P!nk, featured in one of my favorite AMVs, [here](https://youtu.be/l1Dz_GLwSxs)
> 
> Minor update: 7/14/19:  
> According to the BLEACH JET booklet, the Inuzuri gang now have CANON NAMES (Kosaburou, Fujimaru and Mameji) and I am retconning all my fanfics, effective immediately. I hope it's not too confusing, they are only mentioned in passing.  
> Check out [this post from wonderful MissStormcaller](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375927/chapters/46707202) on Tumblr for more detail.
> 
> Also, since I am in the progress of mirroring my stuff on fanfiction.net, I did a big cleanup. And for Reasons, this story now takes place a little earlier than originally (mid-August, rather than early September)

“Aaaaaand this one needs a signature.”

Captain Kuchiki signed with a flourish. “Is that the last one?” he asked, handing the paper back to his adjutant. It was amazing how Captainly he still managed to look while wearing a bathrobe and propped up on a bunch of pillows.

“Yes, sir," his lieutenant, Abarai Renji, replied. "You know, sir, a lot of these could really wait until you’re back in the office. Regrowing organs is serious business.”

“Convalescence is its own form of torture, Abarai,” Kuchiki regarded him coolly. “I am actually quite grateful for you coming out here.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir!”

Byakuya folded his hands on his desk. “How are the men? I did circulate that memo indicating that I had my full trust in you, and I hope they are treating you with the appropriate measure of respect. After… all that occurred.”

 Renji suddenly seemed to find the ceiling very interesting. “Ah, well, funny thing that. You remember that discussion we had when I first came on, where you asked me what I thought of everyone? And I said that I thought 7th Seat Gotou was a bully and that he was really affecting morale?”

“I recall.”

“Well, when I busted out of prison, I mean, I wasn’t really going after anyone, I was just… _focused_ on what I was doing and it turned out I plastered Gotou just immediately. Utterly trashed. His sinus cavities are a disaster.”

“I see.”

“And you know how he is, he would never admit how badly he got wrecked, so he’s being super polite to me.”

“7th Seat Gotou is a high ranking member of one of the Kuchiki branch families, did you know that?” Of course Renji knew that. Even if the guy didn’t go around pointing it out seventeen times a day, he had the Kuchiki Look-- tall, heavily-lidded eyes, that nose. Well. He _used_ to have that nose.

“That would make him somewhat difficult for you to discipline in ordinary circumstances, right, sir?” Renji pointed out.

“This was, of course, an accident,” Byakuya noted off-handed. He had become interested in some other papers on his desk.

“Exactly, sir.”

“And also, I am not there to weigh in.”

“No, sir.”

“I’ve apologized to the other guys I hurt and gave them some extra one-on-ones. The lower ranked ones especially seemed pretty happy with that.”

It was obvious that the captain cared much less about what the lower-ranked guys thought. “Very good, Lieutenant, thank you for the report. You are dismissed.”

“Hey, Captain, before I go, can I ask--” Renji took a deep breath. “How is Rukia?”

A muscle in Byakuya’s jaw twitched. He was silent for a long moment, then he looked up at Renji, carefully studying the younger man’s face for a moment. Finally, he spoke.

“Before we go any further, Lieutenant, I need you to know something: I do not, generally, want to know any of the details of your personal life. This is because I enjoy a relationship of detached professionalism and also because I do not care about you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. So, I am only asking you this question because it is pertinent to a present difficulty: How _do_ you know my sister, anyway?”

Renji blinked. “You don’t know?”

“I noticed on your personnel form that you are from South Rukongai 78, as is she. Did you know each other there? A district is a big place. And I imagine you attended Shin'ou at roughly the same time? You weren’t… sweethearts, or whatever the young people call it, were you?”

Renji felt his cheeks color. “As you said, sir, we grew up together in Inuzuri!”

“You were close?”

“Inseparable, sir! For ten years!”

Byakuya frowned. “Strange, then, that she has been a member of my family for four decades and has never mentioned you.” It did not seem relevant to Byakuya that Rukia had never mentioned _anything_ personal to him, let alone any people she had known.

“Once we moved to the Seireitei, we became… separable, sir,” Renji cringed. “I didn’t think it would be proper to continue our association after her adoption.”

“Hmm. A surprising appreciation of propriety, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you? Sir?”

“Then I can tell you this, and expect that you will treat this information carefully: Physically, she is well recovered. However, her spiritual powers are not returning. It is possible they may never.”

“Oh,” Renji said softly.

Byakuya went on. “I was not pleased to hear that, while I was still recovering at the Coordinated Relief Station, she went out to Rukongai to see the Shiba family, although I understand her reasons. At the time, Kurosaki was still wandering the Soul Society, and it would have been a fool indeed to make an attempt on Rukia with him in earshot.”

“An attempt? You think Rukia is in danger?”

“I am not confident that we have unearthed every last tendril of Aizen’s plots. He could still have agents working within Soul Society. Urahara, the immoral libertine who used her as a science experiment, apparently still has reach here, despite being banished over a century ago. Additionally, my family always has enemies. Now is a terrible time for Rukia to be without her defenses. I have ordered her to stay on the grounds of the manor, and appointed a special guard post to ensure that she is watched over at all times.”

“How is that working out, sir?” Renji asked mildly.

Byakuya’s steely eyes bore into him. “She is driving me into madness, Lieutenant.”

Sounds about right, Renji wisely chose not to say. “Surely she’s not… misbehaving?”

“Hmm? No, of course not. I…” Byakuya frowned. “I don’t know how she’s doing it. She’s been obedient enough, perfectly polite about it, really, but somehow, she has managed to cast a net of nervous tension over the entire household. It’s like there are bees in the walls. Buzzing. I haven’t even seen her in two days and I can… just… feel it. Putting us all on edge. How is she doing this?”

“Yes, sir, I am quite familiar with the sensation.”

Byakuya didn’t seem to notice that he was clenching and unclenching his fists. “How do you make her stop?”

“You give her what she wants. Sir.”

“Of course I cannot, it’s for her own protection.”

Renji shrugged noncommittally. “Just so you know, sir, I have never outlasted the bees. You are my superior in many ways, so please let me know if you do.”

Byakuya set his clenched fists on his desk. “Abarai, you were ready to die for her at Soukyoku Hill.”

Renji became very serious. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Byakuya made a face like he had eaten a newt. “Then I would ask you a favor.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a fine day, a jewel of a late summer day. The kind of day that should be treasured before warm sunshine made way for the chilly winds of fall. The garden was filled with full blown flowers and beautiful scents. Rukia held back her kimono sleeve as she swept through the motions of calligraphy, so like the sword release she could no longer perform. She chucked the brush carelessly in the general direction of its holder. She wanted to burn this place to the ground.

“Excuse me? Lady Rukia?” a soft-voiced servant murmured behind her. “You have a visitor.”

As Rukia turned to address the servant, she noticed Kamata Dai, the head of the House Guard whispering to the young guard on Rukia-duty.

“Okay,” Rukia mumbled noncommittally, trying to look casual while awkwardly groping for her sword, which was sitting on the engawa behind her. The two men disappeared back into the house.

“Shall I show him in?” the servant girl prompted. “And would you like me to fetch some tea?”

“Yeah, show him in,” Rukia went on, her left hand finally closing on Sode no Shirayuki’s sheath. “And let’s have some tea.”

“Very good, miss.”

Rukia got up on one knee, in a crouched drawing position. The fingers of her right hand hovered over the sword grip.

“Lieutenant Abarai for you, miss.”

Rukia fell back on her bottom. “Aw, man. I thought I was getting attacked.”

“Effusive and excessive greetings to you, Lady Rukia!” Renji said, too loudly, stepping through the doorway.

The servant frowned, and slipped back into the house for the tea.

“Did I do that right?”

“No,” Rukia grumbled.

“Do you always carry your sword around the house?”

Rukia’s face turned a bit sad. “If she has something to say to me, I want to be nearby.”

Renji plopped down on the sun-warmed engawa. “Can I sit here? Am I dishonoring you?”

“Constantly. Why are you in my house?”

“Your brother is even worse at resting than you are. He asked me to bring him some paperwork. And you don’t need to turn your bees on me, I’m on your side.”

“Either you’re here to break me out of the Maggot’s Nest here, or you can--” she grabbed her calligraphy and held it up for his examination. In beautifully curling strokes of expensive black ink, it read “Eat a bag of dicks.”

“Your handwriting has come along beautifully, you know. And I really like the way you’re bringing our Inuzuri cultural heritage into the classical traditions.”  

She slammed the paper back down again, sullenly. Ichigo had been much easier to horrify.

“Did you know I was coming? Why would you make that? Who else could you possibly show it to?”

“ _No one_ ,” she groaned. “I’m so _bored_.”

“Let’s go out. I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I can’t,” she protested. “I’m on house arrest and I have to have these dumb guards around all the time. Speaking of, what did you do to my guard?”

“The captain said,” Renji explained gently, “that if I promised to protect you with my life, I could be your guard and I could take you around the Seireitei.”

Rukia’s eyes went wide, first with delight, and then with anger. “This is humiliating!” She was expecting the traditional chest thumping and posturing, and was absolutely not prepared for,

“I know it is, and I’m sorry.”

She made as if to draw her sword again. “Who are you and what have you done with Renji?”

He didn’t even have the decency to chuckle, he just looked her in the eye and said, “After all you’ve been through, it really sucks that your powers haven’t come back and it super sucks that you’re being treated like a piece of glass. But also, who the hell knows what’s going on these days? You came real close to dying there, and nobody wants a repeat of that.” He took a deep breath. “Look. When I got my position at the 6th, I saved my entire second paycheck so I could take you out to dinner. I was gonna tell you about it as soon as you got back from your mission in the living world.”

“Don’t spend your money on me, dummy!”

He regarded her very seriously. “Rukia, our whole childhood, I could never afford to do anything for anyone. I have been planning this since we passed the entrance exams at the Academy.”

Damn the man, he knew she had no defense against him when he was being sincere!

“C’mon, do you want to stay here and be pissed, or can you humor your old buddy and maybe even have a good time?”

“Oh-kaaaay,” she relented. She did, very much, want to get out of there. She sprang to her feet just as the servant returned with a tea tray. “Belay the tea! I’m going out!” She snatched up her calligraphy project and thrust it at Renji’s chest. “Here. This is for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you mind if we swing by my place to drop this stuff off?” Renji jostled the pile of paper in his arms for emphasis.  “I wanna change clothes, too. You given any thought to where you wanna go? It’s your pick.”

“Tampopo,” she replied without hesitation.

“The ramen place over by the Academy? A vice-captain’s salary isn’t what you might hope, but I can definitely take you to a nicer place than that.”

“I always wanted to go and I never got to,” she replied simply.

Oh. Ohhhhh.

There was always food available for free in the Academy cafeterias, but the students enjoyed getting off campus once in a while, and there were a variety of loud, cheap eateries in the vicinity. As scholarship kids, Renji and Rukia had each received a small stipend, which they hoarded like dragons in case of emergencies. They lived in terror of a ripped uniform or lost textbook. They were strict cafeteria adherents.

Izuru and Momo never said anything of it. They were vaguely aware of Renji's financial situation and very aware of the delicacy of his pride. There may have been some joking fictions maintained about his devotion to the cafeteria yakisoba or mealtimes being his special time to lecture Rukia on the finer points of being an advanced shinigami.

It must have been after she was adopted, then, the first time Kira had said to him, “Come along with us, Abarai, we’re going out today. It’s my turn to buy, you don’t have to worry about that.”

He had hunched his shoulders and been very interested in collecting his notes. “Yeah, but it won’t ever be my turn to buy. I’ll stick to the cafeteria, thanks.”

“I don’t care about that.” Izuru landed a triple-punch on his shoulder, their usual gesture of affection. “Momo and I are bored of making fun of each other and we want to make fun of you.” He glanced around to verify that the classroom had mostly cleared out. Momo was bothering the instructor about something, as usual.  “There are lots of ways to show friendship, Abarai. Paying for lunch is a tiny imposition for me, and I understand that I am actually asking for a much greater imposition from you. But I think we’re good enough friends now that maybe you wouldn’t mind me asking.”

Renji’s face burned a little, even just at the memory. In the last few weeks, he’d awkwardly passed Kira a few times in the hallway, visiting Momo at Squad 4. Maybe it was time to send the guy another text.

“It’s not that good, I’ve been,” he blurted at Rukia, trying to cover the fact that his mind had been wandering. “But if that’s what you want, I’m game.”

“It is what I want, and I want to go with you,” she sniffed.

Renji looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure if he was eventually going to get tired of looking at her, but it wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Seventeen inches down and a little off to the side, that little bobbing mop of dark hair, right where she belonged. Maybe. “Hey, Rukia?”

“What’s up?”

“I know you’re sort of in a hostage situation here, but I, uh, I am actually pretty happy-- no, that’s not what I mean. What I actually mean is, I just would like to-- if you want to-- like to start, you know. Hanging out again.” Wow, that was smooth, his jerkbrain congratulated him.

Rukia had only very recently gotten back into the habit of walking with friends. For a long forty years, she had mostly occasionally trailed along in the shadow of her brother or a superior officer, called on to nod or “yes, sir!” at appropriate times. Officer or friend: which was this tall stranger walking beside her? Her brother’s deputy, the very picture of a model young officer, assigned as her protection detail, babbling strange, disjointed, vaguely affectionate things at her reminded her of no one so much as...Inoue. She gave up trying to parse whatever he had said. “What?”

“I want to be friends again,” he blurted out. “If it’s okay with you.”

To say that Rukia hadn’t thought about resuming contact with her old friend was not entirely true. She had thought about it, in fact, quite a lot. She had been stuck in her house for the last two weeks, following an even longer, more boring (if also terrifying) imprisonment. If there was an elaborate, dramatic fantasy to be imagined about anyone and everyone in her life, she had entertained it. It is also to be noted that Rukia had read quite a bit of dramatic manga in the World of the Living. She had imagined countless scenarios that ended with him dying, her dying, both of them dying, confessions of love, professions of hate, and the complete destruction of Soul Society. She had not, however, bothered to consider the case that he might just want to get a drink once in a while or ask for feedback on potential haircuts. Could she even be that sort of friend?

“I’m not sure I’m still the same person you used to know,” she said softly, staring at her feet.

He tugged at his ponytail. “It’s still not coming out right! I didn’t mean to put you on the spot! I just… I just wanted you to know that I didn’t talk to you for all that time because it wasn’t proper. I mean, I don’t care what’s proper, but people do, and I didn’t want to cause trouble for you, and also, I wanted to see you again _someday_ , so I was trying to avoid getting _killed by your brother_. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to see you! And according to this very large book in the library that I have been consulting, it is Appropriate for an Assistant Captain (active duty or retired) to associate with members of the nobility. Normally, as an unmarried lady, you would require an older, female chaperone, but since you are also a shinigami, most of the standards for unmarried women are waived. Also, your brother just ordered me to. Anyway, I had sort of been… working toward this for a long time, and I was going to tell you as soon as I got my commission, but you were, uh, out of town. And then some things happened.”

Rukia was staring at him as if he had managed to grow a second head.

“Look, if I’m addressing you with too much familiarity, just, uh, let me know,” he finished up lamely.

“Renji, I understand that you’re probably going to have to fake it in front of the real Kuchikis from time to time, but if I _ever_ ask you to address you with ‘less familiarity’, please just stab me instead, okay?”

He snorted. “Okay. Good.”

“And am I to understand, from that rambling dissertation on etiquette, that you got yourself promoted for the express purpose of seeing me again? Or was that just a side benefit?” The speed with which Renji had risen through the ranks was remarkable, but not unheard of. Several of his classmates had beaten him to it. But still… Rukia’s stomach clenched. She, herself, had risen absolutely nowhere in the same time. She hoped, desperately, that he would give the second reply.

Instead, he dodged the question. “Oops, here we are! Sixth Division.” He started pointing out various features. “That’s my office, over there, and we’re having the West Training Grounds resurfaced--”

“I know,” Rukia tried to interrupt him. “I’ve been here before.”

Renji plowed on determinedly, pointing out various amenities until, “And here’s my quarters!” He stuffed the paperwork under one arm so he could get the door. “You just wait out here until…” he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be guarding her. “Shoot. Uh…” he glanced around wildly, but no one seemed to be around. “You better come in, it’ll only be a minute.” He shoved her through the door, shutting it quickly behind him. “Don’t tell the captain you were in here.”

They stood in the entrance for a moment, just taking it all in.

“I just moved in,” Renji finally explained, shucking his sandals. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back.”

Kaien hadn’t actually lived in his quarters, since he and Miyako had a house off-base, but he kept them furnished as a sort of crash pad and general hang-out space, so Rukia had been there many times. Renji’s had the same layout-- a large main room, a kitchen area off to one side, and a shoji in the back, where Renji had just disappeared, probably leading to his bedroom and bathroom. The difference, however, was that Kaien had owned _furniture._

Nothing about this was surprising, to be honest. In their younger days, Rukia had been a magpie, constantly decorating their living quarters with pressed flowers or colorful bits of ephemera she came across. She collected bits and hoarded pieces, you never knew what would turn out to be useful. Renji was the opposite. If he managed to get ahold of something of good quality, something useful, a piece of clothing, a tool, he would take care of it like a precious jewel, trying to wring out all possible utility, but otherwise, he was never much for _things_. He preferred to be able to carry everything he owned on his person.

It was obvious what his most valuable possession was these days. Against one wall was a sword stand of very simple design, but made of beautiful, polished tigerwood. Zabimaru sat atop it, giving off the aura of a cat curled up in front of a fireplace. Nearby was a small shelf full of oils and whetstones and other sword maintenance paraphernalia, carefully organized.

Allllll the way across the room, against the other wall, was a table that seemed to serve as a desk.

There was some sort sports bag left open near the window, presumably to air out. Rukia peeked in. Futsal gear.

That was it.

She wandered over to the desk. He had dumped all of Byakuya’s paperwork there on the way through. A corkboard hung over the desk, pinned with all manner of things. The futsal league schedule. A weekly workout regimen. A hand-drawn diagram of his tattoos, with little marks that she guessed indicated which ones he already had. And some photographs. Renji with Kira and Hinamori, his friends from school, showing off brand-new Squad 5 insignia. Was that Lt. Hisagi, playing a guitar? Possibly from the first and only Seireitei Open Mic Night, an event that would live in infamy. A lot of pictures of hideous men she didn’t know, mostly either flexing or making rude gestures. Of course he would have made friends in Squad 11. He made friends wherever he went. And down in the corner, a grainy, yellowed newspaper clipping of her own face, from the social column of some long-ago issue of the Bulletin.

Rukia straightened up abruptly, feeling like she had seen something she shouldn’t have. She hadn’t been snooping, it was a thing he had hung on his wall, right? For anyone to see?

Renji was sliding the shoji closed again. He had changed out of his shihakusho into a red patterned yukata that, frankly, looked terrible with his hair. Rukia had never bothered to criticize his fashion sense, and wasn't about to start now. It was more fun to let him walk around in public like this. How had he possibly put on this outfit and decided, ‘yes, this looks good’?

“You ready?” he asked, his eyes darting briefly between her and his corkboard curiously.

“When are you getting your butt tattoos?” Rukia asked pointedly. The tension in the room evaporated; she had pulled the classic conversational redirect of Asking A Tattoo Buff About Their Next Tattoo.

“Soon, actually! I just need three consecutive days off, for, you know, recovery, so I have to wait until your brother is back in the office. Assuming he gives me the time off.”

“Here’s a tip: Don’t tell him what it’s for.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was a weeknight, so the restaurant wasn’t too crowded, but it was rather loud, and dark, and, like student restaurants everywhere, weirdly cramped. Renji hadn’t been here since graduation. He felt the strange compulsion to hunch. “Why is everyone here so short?” he grumbled as they slid into a booth near the back.

“Because they are tiny baby students,” Rukia replied, as though she weren’t still the shortest one in the place.

“Ahem. Hello, and welcome to Tampopo Ramen,” a nervous voice addressed them. “I am your waiter, Keigo. Have you been here before?”

“No, it’s my first time!” Rukia chirped cheerfully. “I know a guy named Keigo.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while,” Renji frowned, squinted at the menu in its smeared plastic holder.

There was a long pause, and then, “Excuse me, sir, but… aren’t you a vice-captain?”

Renji froze. “Uh, yeah. Yes. Actually. Can you, uh, be a little quiet about that?” The last thing he wanted was to be swarmed by seniors, desperate to get into the Gotei 13.

“Wow!” Keigo looked about the right age to be a student, but didn’t appear to be giving off even a sniffle of spiritual power. “I saw your picture in the Bulletin! Did you fight the ryoka? Were they scary?”

Rukia leaned forward, setting her chin on her interlaced fingers.

“Naw,” Renji shrugged. “They turned out to be okay.”

“I bet you didn’t even see them,” Rukia teased, looking him straight in the eye.

He returned her gaze and smirked. “I was standing in the back.”

Keigo was definitely confused, so he decided to go back on script. “Do you know what you would like to order, or would you like me to Tell You About Our Menu?”

“I’ll have a number two,” Renji said, holding up two fingers. It was hard to mess up shoyu. He was still looking at Rukia.

Rukia, for her part, had no time for handsome distractions. “NUMBER SEVEN,” she demanded, slamming her hands palm down on the table.

Keigo gasped, and the place went silent. Somewhere, someone dropped a plate.

Renji felt all the blood drain from his face. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. How had he forgotten? How had he not seen this coming?

Keigo cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I am obligated to inform you that the Number 7 Atomic Tan Tan Ramen is the spiciest ramen in all the Seireitei.”

Renji groaned, pulled his bandana down over his eyes, and slumped down in his seat as the waiter continued to recite the history of the Number 7, a graphic description of its most recent victims, and current success statistics. Rukia was practically bouncing in her seat.

“...and of course, as I am guessing you know, if you finish it, your meal is free!”

“I will do it!” Rukia proclaimed.

Keigo seemed to have gotten caught in her enthusiasm. “I have never actually seen anyone do it, but I believe in you, ma’am! I will go put in your order. Oh, you also get free unlimited tea for even making the attempt.” He scampered off.

“Rukia. You don’t have to do this. I told you I would buy you dinner.”

“You are doing something even better: you are Witnessing My Glory.”

Renji had Witnessed Her Glory before. Stunt eating was not a thing in Inuzuri, where any kind of food was hard to come by. They had happened upon a similar deal at a curry stand in the 32nd on their long journey up through the districts on the way to the Academy. It was extremely fortunate that they were already signed up for entrance exams and on a strict travel schedule, or Rukia would probably, to this day, be wandering the Rukon in search of her next gastronomical challenge.

“Why didn’t you just come here back in the Academy days? It woulda been free.”

Rukia frowned. “I was worried that maybe I couldn’t do it, and I didn’t want to fail in front of the other students.”

Renji re-adjusted his bandana. “Get real, Rukia! I have yet to see the bowl of food too spicy or greasy or massive for you. It’s disgusting, but it’s your special gift. Or something.”

Keigo had started lining glasses of iced tea up on the table. Rukia made eye contact with him, and held up five fingers. “No ice,” she mouthed. He nodded, and flashed her a thumbs up.

“Why are you doing it now? You certainly don’t need the free food anymore.”

She tasted the iced tea, swishing it in her mouth and trying to decide if she wanted to confide in him. She decided she did. “I need a win.”

“Huh?”

“Brother told you, right? About my powers?”

“He said it was slow going.”

“It’s not slow going. It’s zero going. I might be a nobody now.”

“It’s only been a few weeks! Don’t lose hope!”

“I haven’t lost hope, but I’m also trying out the idea of life outside of the Gotei 13.”

“You would still be a Kuchiki, right?”

She made a noise low in her throat. “Yeah. Dressed up in silks, writing rude haikus, drinking floral tea with the aged.”

“You could… go back to the World of the Living,” Renji said slowly, his stomach twisting at the thought.

“I won’t say I haven’t considered it,” Rukia said slowly. “What would I do? Go back to human high school? No, thanks. I would have to get… job skills.” She frowned. “Isshin said if I wanted to talk about it, he… has some experience in the manner.”

“Isshin? Isshin who?”

“Shiba Isshin. Did you know him? He was Captain at the 10th before Captain Hitsugaya.”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I fought him once. Isn’t he missing and presumed dead?”

“Hmmm,” Rukia said, looking off to the side. “Anyway, as I said, I haven’t given up yet. But sitting around on house arrest isn’t doing much for my morale. I could just… really use a win right now.”

“Yeah. I get it.” Renji took a deep breath. “Can I help?”

“Help? You can’t help with the Number 7. Its against the rules, and also, your poor tummy couldn’t stand it.”

“Help with your powers, dummy! I’ve helped a couple of other people get to shikai, you know, I do know something about this stuff.”

Rukia looked thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea. The doctor told me to get lots of rest and keep trying at _jinzen_. I’ve been carrying this… this asauchi around with me like a trainee. It’s been too long.  I need to try more things.”

“You can’t hear her?” Renji asked softly.

“Not since… not since I gave my powers to Ichigo.”

They sat in silence.

Renji shook his head and looked away. “Damn, Rukia, I can’t believe you made it through all that without your zanpakutou. Zabimaru is an old grump, but I don’t know what I would do without them.” He shook his head. ”I don’t know how you keep surprising me with how damn brave you are, but you’ve done it again.”

Rukia felt her eyes prickling. She didn’t feel brave, she felt defective. For the first time, she allowed herself to just think the thought: I miss Sode no Shirayuki. I miss my zanpakutou.

“Here! It! Is!”

Keigo the waiter set a massive bowl of ramen before her. Her nose burned, just inhaling its steam. It had little flags in it. It… sparkled.

“You got this,” Renji regarded her with utter seriousness.

“Here I come,” Rukia murmured.

 

* * *

 

 

“And… smile! Got it!” Keigo turned his soul pager around so they could see the picture. Rukia’s eyes looked bloodshot and her smile was more than a little manic.

“Perfect,” Rukia approved.

“Great! I’m going to print this out and post it on the Wall of Flame. Ma’am, that was amazing. I am so grateful to be your service staff.”

Rukia was so swamped with adolescent admirers that she didn’t notice Renji catch the waiter’s sleeve. “Hey, man. Would you mind getting me a copy of that picture?”

“No problem, Vice Captain, sir!” Keigo agreed. “Please bring her back any time!”

“Any time she wants,” Renji agreed.

 

~ end part 1 ~


	2. Chapter 2

_Monday_

 

“I’m just saying that if you want people to be your friend, you might want to consider buying a couch,” Rukia suggested as they walked up the winding path that led up to the main entrance of Kuchiki Manor.

“I would love to,” Renji replied. “Do you, Miss Kuchiki, know how one goes about that?”

Rukia realized that she did not. “You… just go to a couch store? Give them some money and say ‘one couch, please’?”

Renji shrugged. “Is there a couch store? I don’t know these things!”

“I would ask Brother for you, but his answer would just be ‘have a servant carve one out of gold for you’ or something else unhelpful.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Renji promised.

The doorman opened the main door as they approached. “Good evening, Lady Rukia, Lieutenant Abarai.”

“I’m s’posed to hand her off to Guard Captain Kamata.”

“I shall fetch him.”

They stood awkwardly in the front hallway.

“When will you come see me again?” Rukia’s voice came out a little smaller and more desperate than she had intended.

“I have to work late tomorrow,” he explained, “But I’m off Wednesday afternoon. I was planning to visit Hinamori, but I can come get you after that. You free then?”

Rukia gave a short bark of laughter. She had hoped the answer was going to be, “Tomorrow, dawn,” but she knew he was busy. In addition to covering for Byakuya at the Sixth, the Third, Fifth and Ninth were in modified operations and the remaining Vice Captains were all chipping in to keep things running. Not to mention that there seemed to be a war on the horizon. “Thanks, Renji. It’s... nice of you to do this for me.”

“I’m happy to.” Without meaning to, Renji gazed at her fondly, feeling deeply content.

Rukia studied his face for a moment. That expression wasn’t one she could recall having seen on his face much in the past, but she decided it was one she liked. She wondered if he made it often.

Kamata strode in, Rukia’s maid scurrying behind him. He gave Rukia a once-over, presumably to ensure that all her limbs were still in order. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Great, good night.”

“Oh, Lieutenant, Lord Kuchiki asked to see you again when you returned. He’s in his study.”

Renji’s stomach dropped directly through the floor. He knows. He knows I got his sister’s picture on the Wall of Flame in some greasy ramen joint.

“G’night, Renji,” Rukia called as her maid hustled her off. “Ihadareallynicetime!”

“See you Wednesday!” he called back. Assuming her brother didn’t murder him first.

 

* * *

 

 “Abarai, you have returned my sister to me?”

“Yes, sir. Did you have a peaceful evening, sir?”

“Tremendously. We shall see how long this lasts. However.”

The ‘however’ hung in the air like an executioner’s glaive with the power of one million bankais.

“I fear that, in the clutches of bee-madness, I may have made the request of you too hastily.”

Renji fidgeted, unsure of how to respond. He had known it was too good to last. Byakuya didn’t continue, so finally, he managed a weak “Rukia will be sad about that, I think.”

Byakuya leaned forward, confused. “Hmm? Oh. Oh, no, I have no wish to discontinue the arrangement. We just need to establish certain… guidelines.” From seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a stack of paper roughly the size of a senkaimon troubleshooting guide. “I wrote these up while you were out. Please review them, and complete all three signature pages at the back. You may keep one, please return the other two to myself before the next time you take charge of her.”

Renji accepted the stack of paper gingerly. It appeared to be freshly handwritten. “I’ll, uh, read through it carefully when I get home, sir, but could you give me, um, the short version?”

Byakuya blinked. “The short version is this: I do not care what kind of nonsense my sister chooses to get up to, and by ‘not care’ what I mean is that I do not want to hear about it. I do not want to hear about it from angry relatives, I do not want to hear about it from officers of the Gotei 13, and I especially do not want to hear about it from you. Therefore, I have written up explicit instructions for how she is expected to comport herself in all foreseeable social situations, and I hold you responsible for ensuring that she does so. Do you understand?”

“I do, sir.”

“Read it carefully. You may ask me for any necessary clarifications, but I would prefer you do so while they are still purely theoretical.”

“Yes, sir!”

“That is all, Abarai, you may go.”

“Sir?”

“You may go.”

“I have a question, sir.”

Byakuya sighed. “How can you have a question? You haven’t had time to read it, yet.”

“It’s not about this. It’s about Rukia’s powers. Do you think they’re going to come back?”

“I am sure I have no idea,” Byakuya replied testily. “The doctor made the blusterings of a man who does not know what he is about.”

“You haven’t looked at her yourself?”

“Do I look like a doctor?”

“You’re a captain, and you know so much about this stuff, I just thought-- never mind, sir, forget I said anything.”

Byakuya regarded his second coolly for a moment. “We will be at war, soon, Lieutenant. I have allowed Rukia the distraction of being a shinigami up until now, but at her best, she was an unseated officer of little distinction. Perhaps, the loss of her powers will turn out to be… for the best.”

Renji frowned. “Not for Rukia, sir. I know that your pride is very important to you. Hers is, too. If you think not having powers is going to keep her out of the fight, you don’t know her very well. Anyway, I’ll be back on Wednesday. Do you want me to bring you any paperwork that has accumulated?”

Byakuya was staring off into the middle distance. He must have gotten bored of me, Renji decided. Suddenly, the captain’s eyes snapped back. “Yes, thank you, Lieutenant Abarai. Until Wednesday.”

 

* * *

 

Renji stumbled into his quarters, exhausted.

How had the last five hours just happened?

His day had started at 6am, with fitness drills for the newest recruits. A full day of work that was supposed to end with a quick stop by the Captain’s fancy house and then an early bedtime, since he had another busy one tomorrow. He stared glazedly at the brick of paper in his hand. When was he going to find time to read this thing? Worse yet, who was he going to get to help him _understand_ this thing? His eyes drifted to the picture of Izuru and Momo on his bulletin board. If none of this Aizen shit had gone down, he’d be texting them right now. Hey, guys, I know it’s been an age, but _boy_ , have I got news for you… Aizen had done a real job on their friendship, that was for sure. A week ago, the idea of Momo squealing and clapping her hands would have made him flinch, and right now, he’d give anything to hear it. As for Izuru…

He pulled out his spirit phone and tapped out a quick text. There was a good chance Izuru wouldn’t even reply (he hadn’t replied to the last two), but it was worth a try.

Finally, he let himself think about it: he had talked to Rukia. After 40 years of daydreaming about it, of wondering what he would say and what she would say, and how it would be, here it was.

Her sense of humor was still top form.

Her determination was still as strong as steel.

She had apparently learned how to _fake_ manners, but much to his relief, in her heart, she was still very, very rude.

Her competitive eating skills were also still apparently top form, and as horrifying to witness as ever. He couldn’t decide if her decision to subject him to that was a show of a trust, a power move, or just an utter disregard for him. Who could say?

And he still loved her, very, very much.

Renji knelt by his bulletin board, and carefully unpinned the old newspaper clipping of her picture. He replaced it with the snapshot of her victory grin that he had begged off the waiter. Then he dug out a second tack, and hung her crude calligraphy next to it. She was perfect.

 

* * *

 

 Rukia lay in bed, listening to her stomach sing a happy digestion song.

This… wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

When she had made the decision to stay in Soul Society, everything had seemed like it was on the upswing. Her brother had confided in her. She had been exonerated, and her captain had told her how much he was looking forward to having her back on duty. And there seemed to be a very real chance that Renji wanted to be back in her life.

She had imagined herself back in the shihakusho (maybe even finally given a seat after all her heroic actions?), being included in the plans for taking the fight to Aizen, and then coming home for a friendly dinner with new best brother friend.

And yet, here she was.

She was still on medical leave.

Brother seemed to feel that his one heroic act and confession had him set for the next hundred years, thank you.

And just her luck, the last part _had_ panned out-- Renji _did_ want to be back in her life, except that her life was boring and small and pathetic, while he was literally _running the 6th._

She sighed. Did she want _him_ back in _her_ life? She remembered the Renji-that-was, prickly and sensitive, easy to anger, constantly needing reassurances. She had reminded herself of his every flaw so many times, trying to keep from missing him. She remembered when he had joined the 11th, hearing that he had a reputation for being a fierce and ruthless fighter and that he drank too heavily for polite company. What a nightmare he must’ve turned into! she would needle herself cruelly. Good riddance! And if he were still like that, it would be easy to say, No thank you, I have moved on with my life.

He wasn’t like that, of course. No, in fact, he bore a troubling resemblance to the dashing officer of her Inuzuri daydreams. She hadn’t even known what a vice-captain was then, but she had imagined that he would be strong and brave, but also kind to children and animals. Of course, she had imagined herself as even stronger and braver (and somehow… taller?), and they would always swing into battle in a swirl of shihakusho and a flare of reiatsu, _together_.

She was the one who had failed to live up their dream, that was the real problem.

Her trip to the Living World had set everything on its ear. Ichigo didn’t know she was a mediocre junior officer on her first solo mission. He didn’t know she was nobility, adopted or otherwise. He didn’t know that her superior had died on her own sword. To him, she was the only person who could tell him what the hell was going on, the place he went to make sense of the mess he had found himself in. Even though her life was basically in shambles, she was _his_ rock.

She had liked being a rock.

If she had gone back to the World of the Living-- if she went back now-- it would be with her tail between her legs. Ichigo would know she had finally washed out as a Soul Reaper. She would still boss him around, _obviously_ , but they would both know how it was.

It wasn’t that she wanted to _talk_ to Ichigo, per se… Ichigo’s ideas were uniformly terrible and it’s not like he would be sympathetic. Even the idea of sympathy from Ichigo made her itch.

“Eh,” he would grunt. “Renji said he would help you get your powers back. Just go do it. And then get even stronger.”

“All right, Ichigo,” she told herself, rolling over on her side. “Good plan. Let’s just get stronger.”

 

* * *

 

_Tuesday_

 

“Keep your arm, straight, Gotou! One, two! One, two! Three more! There you go! Very good! Aaaaand done!”

12th Seat Gotou Akane (second-cousin of 7th Seat Gotou) flopped her sword arm to the side. She felt like her bones had been vibrated right out of her. She managed an extremely wobbly bow to her vice-captain, a low-bred _nothing_ who had just blocked 100 of her strikes and didn’t seem to have broken a sweat. He wasn’t even using a sword, he was using a _stick_ he found on the ground on the way over here. “Thank you for the lesson, sir,” she managed to gasp out. “Can I hit the showers?”

“Just a minute, Gotou, I have a question for you.”

She steeled herself for a devastating critique in the form of some nominally innocent question.

“What is the difference between an afternoon and an evening kimono?”

 

“And-- go! Nope, too slow, bring it back. Aaaaand---go! Too slow again! Aoki, your steps are too long. Otsuko, start on the right foot, not the left. Matsuda, you’re not even flash stepping, you’re just… running.”

The three shinigami rubbed their necks and generally failed to make eye contact.

“It’s okay. We’ve been at this for a while now. Let’s take a little break. Catch our breaths. Chat a little. What do you guys know about... branch families?”

 

“I think it got hit with rubble,” 6th Seat Taniguchi explained, gesturing up toward the roof of Dormitory 4. “I don’t think it’s structural, but it’s gonna be real cold in there in a few months if we don’t get it fixed.”

“Okay, I know a good roofing crew in East 13, I’ll give them a call.”

“East Rukongai, sir?”

“Yeah, there’s so much damage everywhere, it’ll take forever if we go through the official requisition process. We’ll have to fill out a waiver, but we did this all the time back in 11.”

“Do you think they’ll do a good enough job, sir?”

“They’ll do a great job, and they’ll be cheaper, too.”

“If you say so, sir.” Taniguchi looked deeply skeptical.

“And now that that’s settled, I would like _you_ , Taniguchi, to explain to _me_ how ‘going to the theater’ works.”

 

“You know, _Lieutenant_ , this would go a lot faster if you were actually helping, instead of… what _are_ you doing?”

“Huh?” Renji looked up from the copy of “Shimizu’s Peerage” that he had found on Byakuya’s side of the office.

Regular work hours were long over, and just he, Third Seat Ohno, and Fourth Seat Kuchiki were left alone in the Captains’ Office, trying to get the piles of paperwork down to a manageable level. Well, that’s what Ohno and Kuchiki were doing. Renji kept getting distracted by this stupid contract.

“Sorry,” Renji sighed. “Just trying to figure out this thing Taichou gave me. Hey, do you guys wanna go? I can finish this up.”

Ohno and Kuchiki exchanged glances. “You’ll be here all night,” Kuchiki pointed out. Despite the last name, Kuchiki Choei was an affable young man, not to mention the pivot on Renji’s futsal team.

“I’m not one to shirk my duties,” Ohno sniffed, despite the fact that he was, in fact, _frequently_ one to shirk his duties. What he meant was that he didn’t want Renji taking credit for doing all the paperwork.

Renji shoved the book aside, and decided to finish up the squad business so the other guys could go home.

“All the studying in the world isn’t going to convince anyone you’re the least bit noble, you know,” Ohno informed him. “I don’t know why you bother.”

“And all the afternoon naps in the world aren’t going to help you pass the lieutenant’s exam, either, Ohno,” Kuchiki hooted, “but you keep trying.” Renji snorted.

Ohno responded with a phrase that was not very genteel. His eyes darted to his vice-captain’s face to see if he was going to be reprimanded, but Renji certainly didn’t give a shit if his people used foul language, particularly while pulling a late shift.

“Being noble is more trouble than it’s worth, anyway,” Kuchiki pointed out, mixing up some fresh ink. “You have to dress up all the time and let old people criticize your life choices.” He was the fifth son of his line and had primarily joined the Gotei 13 to avoid such things.

“I’m not trying to be noble,” Renji waved his hand dismissively, trying to figure out what the stack of paper in front of him even _was_. “Taichou just gave me a bunch of rules for how to act around his sister, and I don’t want to screw anything up.”

Silence filled the office. Renji looked up to find both of them staring at him as though he had just said their taichou had asked him to pick up take-out from the Royal Realm.

“What?” he asked, glancing from one face to the other.

“He… is letting you socialize with Kuchiki Rukia?” Ohno asked flatly.

“Yeah, so? She was in the brig here for weeks.”

“Yeah, and didn’t you see the _three_ separate memos he sent out about not going down to the brig unless you had reason to, and wearing proper clothing if you were passing by and all that?”

“Oh, the last part was because I went to go see her in my bathrobe the first day and he was pissed about it.”

A vein in Ohno’s forehead looked like it was threatening to burst.

Kuchiki grinned. He loved it when their vice-captain referred to his illustrious family head as being “pissed.”

“Do you not understand how _off-limits_ Kuchiki Rukia is?” Ohno hissed.

Renji was perpetually tired of Ohno, and tonight was no real exception. “Not to me, apparently.”

“Taichou lets her go to family functions, but she’s never had a coming out, and he doesn’t let suitors come to visit her,” Kuchiki explained. “I think three-quarters of the squad has put in the paperwork to date her, and he just throws it in a bin somewhere without looking at it.”

“Why?” Renji frowned, wondering why Byakuya wouldn’t try to take advantage of using Rukia to make a strong family connection or whatever else noble people got out of marrying off their sisters.

His squadmates obviously thought he was asking about the first part. “She’s the only female member of the main family,” Ohno explained as though Renji were an idiot. “She’s adopted, so she’s out of the line of succession, but she’s obviously very important to Taichou, the way he treats her. That’s the general wisdom, anyway. He’s very hard to read. It’s a tricky position, but any of us would take it.”

“I heard she’s cute, too,” Kuchiki added. “If you’re into that sort of thing.” Kuchiki was not into that sort of thing, meaning girls, sisters of his captain or otherwise.

Ohno looked like he had something to say regarding his personal opinion of Rukia’s attractiveness, but something about the look on his vice-captain’s face suggested that he might be better off to keep it to himself.

“Huh,” Renji frowned. He’d had no idea.

“Why does he let _you_ fraternize with her?” Ohno demanded.

“Maybe because I actually like her, and I’m not using her to get close to him?” Renji suggested.

“That doesn’t sound like Taichou at all,” Kuchiki pointed out.

“Good point. Maybe he figures I’m Rukongai dirt and would never try to marry my way into his precious family?”

“That sounds more like it.”

Ohno was still shaking his head apoplectically. “He might let you visit her in jail, but if you so much as look at her in front of one of the elders, they are going to _immolate_ you.”

“I’d like to see them try, actually,” Kuchiki replied lightly. “Abarai survived Taichou’s bankai, you know. He might be tougher than some of those old biddies.”

Ohno rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to his paperwork. “I just want to finish this up and get out of here. You two are exhausting.”

“You’re both reading way too much into this. He just asked me to keep an eye on Rukia, not show up for Hanami.”

“Well, you let me know if he _does_ , because I would not miss that for all the sand in Hueco Mundo,” Kuchiki informed him.

Renji shook his head. “Me, either.”

 

* * *

 

_Wednesday morning_

 

Renji woke after a tragically short night to the sound of his soul pager going off. What kind of monster texted at 6am? He peeled Byakuya’s dumb contract off his face and groped for the source of the buzzing.

“I’ll be there at one,” it said.

He smiled.

 

* * *

 

Rukia stared out at the garden with renewed interest.

For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel angry. She had been going in circles, trying the same things over and over, and she hadn’t even noticed.

She had skipped _jinzen_ yesterday. It hadn’t worked the last seventeen times, it wasn’t going to work this time, either. Instead, she worked through her sword forms. Even though she felt stiff and slow, unsupported by her body’s reiatsu, she felt accomplished, having done it, and had fallen into bed, exhausted. Today, feeling pleasantly achy, she sat on the engawa, thinking about taking her calligraphy practice seriously for once, to while away the few hours before Renji got here.

It was still warm, but cloudier today, and an unpleasant breeze lingered about, breaking through the humidity as if to remind everyone that summer wasn’t going to last forever. Good, Rukia, thought. Summer’s not my season.

The first thing I learned to write was my name, she thought to herself. Maybe I’ll write yours. She wrote the characters vertically, like the blade of a sword, the most beautiful sword in Soul Society, thinking of numb fingers and grim, grey skies. She was on the last character when she felt his presence, and congratulated herself on finishing it smoothly without startling.

“Good morning, Brother,” she greeted him gracefully.

“Good morning, Sister,” he returned. “You can still sense the reiatsu of others?”

“Somewhat. Not as I once did. How are you feeling today, Brother?”

“I felt better yesterday. The weather, perhaps.” His eyes glanced over her work. “Rukia. I… have some knowledge of the spiritual humors.” That was an understatement. “Would you mind if I were to… take a look?”

Rukia felt every muscle in her body lock up. Surely, this wasn’t actually happening. Her thoughts raced. Maybe she was a medical curiosity to him, like an extra toe. “I would be most grateful, Brother,” she replied, taking great care at cleaning her brush and putting it away. When she was finished, she looked up at him. “Do you want me to…?”

“You may stay seated.” He knelt beside her. “I am going to touch your back, check the state of your _saketsu_ and _hakusui_.” She felt his hand on her back, his index and middle finger pressing firmly into a spot between her shoulder blades. “I am going to push some energy into you, are you ready?”

“Yes,” she managed.

A warmth poured into her, like swallowing a gulp of too-hot tea. It cooled almost instantly, pouring down into her stomach and disappearing. She gasped.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“What do you think?” Rukia asked, her voice so quiet that she, herself could barely hear it.

“You have not been able to contact your zanpakutou, is that correct?” His eyes lingered over her calligraphy again.

“I have not.”

He looked up and out to the garden. “Before we train as shinigami, our _saketsu_ creates reiryoku, which we can use in disordered ways. To strengthen a blow, to throw a blast of energy. As we train, we learn to use the _hakusui_ to convert reiryoku into reiatsu. Our zanpakutou is integral to this process. It is… an interpreter of sorts. It tells the reiryoku what kind of reiatsu to become. There are other ways for one with high spiritual energy to become strong, other skills to be learned, but for the shinigami arts, a zanpakutou is needed.”

I know this, Rukia thought desperately. Cut to the chase.

“Your _saketsu_ is creating reiryoku. Your _hakusui_ is still functioning. But your zanpakutou is not functioning as an intermediary.”

“What do you mean, ‘not functioning’?”

“I have seen shinigami whose zanpakutou were destroyed, unhealable. It is like a grievous wound. Yours is different. It is as though your zanpakutou is… dormant?”

“Oh,” Rukia said, her hand rubbing her stomach, at the spot where you would plunge your sword into someone you wanted to transfer your powers to. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it will just take time.” He got to his feet, wobbling a little on his way up. Rukia scrambled to her feet, grabbing his elbow to support him. He froze instinctively at her touch. She did not let go.

“Take a moment, if you need,” she regarded him very seriously.

“Perhaps I have been too eager to get better,” he said. “Perhaps a rest day is in order.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed. “Please take care of yourself, Brother. And thank you.”

 

* * *

 

It was one-oh-five.

Kira sat on one of the benches in front of the Coordinated Relief Station. He was wearing sunglasses and his hair looked like it had even more gel in it than usual.

“Hey, man!” Renji called out. “Thanks for coming.”

Kira didn’t get up. “What’s this about, Abarai?”

Renji plopped down on the bench, not too close. “I wanted to see how you were.”

“Well, I’m no longer on administrative leave, _as you know_ , since you’ve been personally doing the paperwork for my squad _._ My wounds were negligible, and now they’re gone. I’m great. Everything’s great.”

Renji frowned. “C’mon, man, I don’t want to do this.”

Kira stood up. “Good, because I don’t want to do,” he gestured between them, “ _this_. I’m sorry, Abarai, I know we have history, but I just can’t be around you right now.”

“I’m sorry!” Renji yelped.

Kira froze. “Are you… kidding me? Momo and I were awful to you after you quit the 5th. You were the only one to see Aizen and Gin for what they were. You were _our friend_ , but somehow, we believed them over you. I watched you fill out those transfer papers myself, and somehow I still came to believe Aizen when he told people he had you shipped off.”

Renji’s jaw clenched. He knew there had been mixed stories about that, but at the time, he had been so angry at everything, he’d welcomed the rumors.

“I attacked my friends, Abarai. I almost betrayed all of Soul Society! But it’s okay because you saw through it all, and got your bankai, and spat in his face and saved the girl you’ve always loved. I’m… I’m glad it worked out for you, but I just can’t really see you right now, and I sure as hell don’t need _you_ apologizing to _me.”_ He started to walk away.

“I knew Aizen was a shitbag and I left you and Momo there.”

Kira froze.

The words flooded out of Renji’s mouth as though he was afraid Kira might run away if he stopped talking. “And you gotta know, I’m not some great judge of character or genius detective. He was just way too nice to us, that’s all, always gushing over us. Guy’s a captain, he should have better things to do than compliment some greenhorns on their kido stances. In Inuzuri, you get the hell away from grown-ups who seem too interested in you, people like that are bad news. I should’ve made you see it. I should have made you get out. And when our friendship went south, I just let it. And I’m sorry for that. And I understand that you don’t wanna see me right now, but I want you to know that I hope you’re okay and that you’re checking in with other friends and that I do hope that someday you’ll want to see me again.”

Kira was quiet for a long time. Then, “I’ve been drinking with Matsumoto.”

Renji nodded. “I’m glad. She’s a tough lady. You listen to her, ‘specially if she tells you you’ve had too much.”

“Yeah.” Kira was quiet. “Sometimes Hisagi, too, but he’s… been writing a lot of songs, lately?”

“Yikes,” Renji cringed. “You want me to get a drink with him, so maybe he someone else to talk to for a bit?”

Kira snorted. “I… would appreciate that, actually.”

“Kira… I’ll leave you alone after this, I promise, but...do you think… could we go visit Momo together? I mean, I know she’s not even awake, but I feel like it would make her feel good if were both there. Ten minutes, tops.”

Kira sighed. “I guess I can stand you for that long. For Momo.”

“I even have a good story about what a dope I am, she should like that, right?”

Izuru couldn’t help it. “I might be able to stand one of those, myself, actually.”

“Yeah? So, you have a couch, right?”

“A couch? Yes, of course I own a couch.”

“How did you get it?”

“I had my sister send one over from one of the unused rooms at the estate. _Why_?”

Nuts, that wasn’t going to work. “Maybe Momo will already be awake when we get there.”

 

* * *

 

Rukia was waiting outside the front gate for him when he arrived at the manor. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her guard-of-the-day practically teleported away when Renji showed up carrying a large equipment bag slung over one shoulder.

“Let’s GO,” she informed him.

“Hold your horses, I gotta talk to your brother first,” he said, headed for the door.

“You can’t.”

“I can’t?”

“He isn’t well today. I think he went back to bed.” Rukia studied Renji’s thoughtful, pained face. “What’s the matter?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this…”

“Once you say that, you legally have to tell me.”

“I realize that. After we went out last time, he decided he hadn’t attached enough rules to this arrangement, so he gave me this… packet, and told me I had to sign it and give it back to him before I could take you out again.”

“You could leave it in his study, probably.”

“Well… I had some questions. I didn’t want to sign it until I had everything cleared up.”

Rukia raised one eyebrow. “What kind of rules are they? 'Do everything Rukia tells you to do'? 'Let Rukia do what she wants to your hair'?”

“Unfortunately, it’s more like, here are all the things Rukia isn’t allowed to do, don’t let her.”

“Oh, that’s no fun. Is there anything in there I am allowed to do?”

“Well, yes, but those are worse. ‘Rukia will wear proper head attire to all outdoor sporting events,’ stuff like that.”

“That’s not real, it doesn’t say that.”

Renji shrugged expansively.

“Okay, well, anyway, I know most of those rules, ask me the questions.”

Renji thought about this. He did not want to ask Rukia the questions. Well, the one question, the one that was actually keeping him from signing the thing. However, to be fair, he also did not want to ask Byakuya that question, either. Rukia was staring at him.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Renji pulled the thing out of his bag. Rukia goggled.

“The man sure loves writing down a buncha rules, doesn’t he?”

Renji nodded. “Yeah, I managed to figure out most of it, with the help of my more noble division-mates, but a few things seemed a little… specific? Like, what is Dreaming Pines?”

“Oh, that’s the summer house. It’s out in the Lake District of North Rukongai. I guess when the family was bigger, they used to summer out there, but Brother is always working, so he never goes.”

“Have you… ever been?”

“No, but I would like to. Brother says it is very beautiful.”

And evidently important enough to include in this thing.

“Number two: who is Kuchiki Azami?”

“The worst, is who she is,” Rukia shuddered. She thought for a moment. “Kuchiki Takehiko is in your division, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s my fifth seat.”

“Aunt Azami is his mother.”

Renji contemplated this. He was trying to picture the diagram he kept in his desk of how everyone in his squad was related to everyone else. “She’s pretty high ranking in the family, then?”

It made Rukia feel strangely uncomfortable that Renji was already figuring out the relative status of her family members, when she herself was still figuring it out after 40 years. “Yeah. And since the main branch, by which I mean, Brother and me, lack a matriarch, she’s always trying to insert herself and pretending to be concerned for us, but it’s really because she’s a busybody and a social climber.”

“Well, that would explain the seventeen pages devoted to her, then.”

Rukia snatched the Rules out of Renji’s hand. “What did he say about her?” Her eyes scanned the page, and a smile crept over her face. “Ha. I knew he didn’t like her, either.”

“Ah, one last question.” Maybe he could ask it while she wasn’t paying attention. “Do you actually have a Family-Approved Suitor?”

Her eyes peered up from the paperwork. “Come again?”

“You know. Someone, with, uh, an approved copy of form RHCA-48-006-C.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Abarai Renji.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t you think someone would have mentioned it by now, if I did?”

“Look, I only ask, because all of Section 3.4a is acceptable behavior between you and your Family-Approved Suitor, and it’s a lot and I just needed to know if I was going to need to study up on that section.”

“Renji,” she said, still suspicious. “Renji, why do you still look constipated?”

“Because, since your answer is no, we have to talk about Section 3.4b.”

Rukia flipped to Section 3.4b. Her eyebrows shot up. “In the absence of a Family-Approved Suitor, Kuchiki Rukia may engage in ‘discreet romantic activities’! Wow!”

“Why are you reading it out loud? The important thing is that the next page details how far away I need to sit from your ‘discreet romantic activities,’ and I won’t do it, okay?”

Rukia was holding her stomach with laughter at this point.

Renji crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “Are you done laughing at me, yet?”

“I am only laughing,” she wheezed, “Because I got the ‘discreet romantic activities’ talk _verbally_.”

“Oh, _no_ ,” Renji gasped.

“Just…” Rukia put one hand on the wall to keep standing. “Just try to imagine him saying those words. Out loud.”

“I don’t want to!”

Rukia wiped away a tear, and flipped back and forth a few pages. “Wait, does he ever define ‘discreet romantic activities’?”

“Nooo!” Renji wailed.

Rukia chuckled, and ticked off on her fingers, “Holding hands. Hugging. Mushy talk. Smoochin’. That’s it.”

“He did not say the words ‘mushy talk’ or ‘smoochin’.”

“Perhaps not, but he did list off the thirty seven things that are _not_ permitted under ‘discreet romantic activities.’”

“Oh nooooo.”

“Oh, yes. I will spare you if you will just sign the damn form so we can get out of here. I promise to put my ‘discreet romantic activities’, of which there are disappointingly few of anyway, on hold until we’re done with… _this._ ” She gestured between them. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes again. “You know what is weird, though?”

“Everything about this?”

“Well, yes. But the weirdest part is how… exhaustive and forward-looking it is? And the way it’s written, with it mostly being an outline of acceptable behavior, with your body-guarding rules tacked on at the end of each section?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, either Brother doesn’t ever expect me to get my powers back, or he expects this agreement to outlive this protection detail.”

Renji’s brows furrowed. “Why would he do that?”

“Beats me. Come on, let’s go drop that off in the study.”

 

“So, first and foremost, we gotta find somewhere to train,” Renji pointed out, once they had dropped off the signed forms, along with a stack of Squad 6 paperwork. “Can we do it here?”

Rukia made a pained face. She had really hoping to get out for a bit.

“Believe me, you do not want to do this at the 6th.” By which he meant _he_ didn’t want to deal with a hundred questions about what he was doing, training the boss’ sister. “How about the 13th?”

Rukia made a different pained face. “I… I guess. I’m sure Captain Ukitake would permit it. I was hoping…” To come back with her head held high, ready to rejoin the squad, stronger than ever. “I don't think I'm ready to go back.”

Renji looked thoughtful, and lowered his voice. “There’s Yoruichi’s old hideout. She said I could use it if I need to.”

“The place where you and Ichigo trained for bankai?”

“Yeah.”

“That seems kinda… loaded.”

Renji patted her shoulder. “Look, we’re gonna be doing some touchy feely crap, so we should definitely pick a place where you feel comfortable and relaxed. What are some of your favorite places?”

“Lieutenant Kaien used to take me out to Mount Koifushi sometimes,” Rukia said wistfully. “That’s where I learned both of my releases.”

Renji frowned. “I can’t take you out to Rukongai, it’s in the rules. I… wouldn’t want to, anyway. I can’t be on my full guard _and_ actually help you train.”

He is taking this very seriously, Rukia realized. “Hey, I have an idea. What if we just went out in the woods?”

“The woods?”

“Yeah, the Kuchiki grounds are enormous. If you go past all the formal gardens, there’s acres and acres of woods out there. I haven’t been allowed to go out that far since my house arrest, but it should be fine if you’re with me. It’s private, and maybe it would remind me of Mount Koifushi. I used to go out there a lot, I know some good spots.”

“Let’s do it.”

 

“It’s a little chilly in the shade,” Renji observed. “We could try to find a clearing.”

Rukia looked around. They were in a copse of greyish-green pines. She knew the river wound around here somewhere, she could hear it, although she couldn’t see it. “No, here’s good. This feels right.”

“Okay, then.” Renji dumped his equipment bag on the ground and fished a notebook out of the top. “Here’s what we’re going to do: I have all afternoon with you today, but maybe not in the next few days. I wanna figure out what you can do and what you can’t, and we’re gonna figure out a routine for you to do, even if I’m not here. We’ll see how that goes for a few days, and revise from there.”

“Oh-okay,” Rukia stuttered, watching him guardedly. This wasn’t Her Old Pal Renji, this was her brother’s Lieutenant. She had to spend an unfortunate amount of time with various officers of the Sixth Division at Kuchiki social events, and lately she had heard a lot of complaints that he was a brutal trainer, if an effective one.

“I know you know how to do all the spiritual humors crap they teach at school-- the meditating, the visualizations, the chants, and I know you’ve probably already tried all that, so we’re going to do something different. This the meathead’s guide to getting spiritually swole.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you know that you don’t actually have to graduate from the Academy to get into the Gotei 13?”

“Yeah, dummy, I didn’t.”

“You… early-graduated. Anyway, Captains can choose to let anyone they want into their squad. But there’s only one captain who would bother with people who don’t come with any shinigami skills whatsoever.”

Since he had already mentioned meatheads, the answer was obvious. “Captain Zaraki?”

She was rewarded with a finger gun. “You got it. You know how you get into 11th Squad?”

“You just transferred in, didn’t you?”

“Sort of. Whenever they’re getting low on guys, they hold this thing called The Brawl. Anyone can show up: lowlifes, tough-guys-for-hire, hoodlums, dirtbags, bullies, thugs, drunks, sleazes. If you can knock out a Seated Officer, you’re in. Being the 20th Seat of the 11th Division _sucks_.  They approved my transfer request after I laid out the 9th seat. To be fair, he was pretty tired by the time I got to him.”

“Congratulations?”

“The problem with this system--”

“There’s a _problem_?” she gasped in mock horror.

“It’s a terrible system. It’s real bad. Guys in Squad 11 are constantly dying or ditching or getting kicked out for all sorts of reasons. But sometimes, you get a good one. You get a guy who has some real spiritual energy, who’s too dumb and too rough to get into the Academy, but would make an incredible shinigami if he could just figure this shit out. The old-timers in Squad 11, the guys who _have_ figured it out, have all these weird, stupid ways of teaching this stuff that’s more like lifting weights than reading books. And you wanna know the wild part?” He leaned forward and raised one eyebrow. “This shit also works real good on nerds who overthink things.”

She crossed her arms and stuck out her lip. “So which am I? A meathead or a nerd?”

“You’re in a class of your own, as usual.”

Rukia hoped the sudden warmth in her cheeks wasn’t actually visible.

“Look, you said the usual stuff wasn’t working, right? Let’s just start throwing shit at the wall and see what sticks. I made you a workout plan.” He flipped open the notebook and stood close to her, so she could see what he had written out. She had to peer over his elbow to see it, and immediately blushed for real. “Renji!”

He chuckled. “I know my handwriting’s bad, so I drew some diagrams for you.” Next to each exercise, he had doodled wobbly little rabbits and bears demonstrating the important points of each.

“Your drawing is even worse!” she yelped defensively, jumping back. She immediately regretted it--it must have taken him _forever_. Oh, no, her eyes were _burning_. _Don’t, don’t, don’t cry,_ she wished desperately.

He didn’t seem phased. “Well, if you want to re-draw them, you’re much better than me.” He froze suddenly. “You still draw stuff like this, right?” It hadn’t occurred to him until just now that maybe the long years of noble formality and repeated tragedy had wrung the childish habit out of her. “Honestly, I’d be sad if you didn’t.”

“I have been known to, from time to time,” she said, pretending to be cross. “But I thought you were going to take this seriously, Abarai.”

“If that’s the way you want it, Kuchiki, let’s start with this one that the little raccoon is doing, ground-and-holds. Hado stance, relax your shoulders!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” he scolded. “I might be a lieutenant, but I’m not _your_ lieutenant, none of that.”

“Okay, then. Yes, dumbass!”

“Much better.”

 

Rukia slumped against the bole of a tree, hoping her head would stop spinning soon. Renji was making notes. More notes. Did he have this many notes on all his trainees?

“How're you feeling?” he asked, looking up.

“Terrible,” she croaked. “Weak. Tired.”

“Terrible and weak, we could leave behind, but you deserve to feel tired, that was good work.” He closed the notebook and stuffed it back in the bag. “You’ve done enough for today. I’m getting hungry, too, it must be close to dinner time.” Picking up both their zanpakutou, he walked over to her and then smoothly sank into a cross-legged position across from her. “But before we head back, there’s one more thing I want to try. You feel up to one more thing?”

“Will it hurt?”

“It will not. I want try getting you back into your inner world.”

“You got another dumb Squad 11 way for doing that?”

“I do, actually. Remember how I said that all you gotta do to get in is to beat up a seated officer? Well, once you’re in, you have 6 months to produce a zanpakutou or you’re out again. Now, a lot of these guys connect to their zanpakutou instinctively, at least enough to learn its name. But if they want to further connect with it, they gotta figure out _jinzen_ \-- and we’re talking about guys who are not real good at, say, sitting still. There’s no way around it. You gotta get to your inner world or you’re screwed. But, I have a trick, which I came up with myself.”

Rukia raised an eyebrow.

Renji felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness. All of this seemed terribly woo. You’ve done this with a 300 lb dude with one eyebrow, he reminded himself. Then again, that dude couldn’t raise his eyebrow like Kuchiki Rukia could. He cleared his throat. “You’ve been there before. You know what your inner world looks like, feels like. So what we’re gonna do is, you’re going to sit in the right position, and think about it, and say out loud everything you’re thinking. It doesn’t have to be visual, for a lot of people, an inner world can be about feel or sound or smell or emotion. I have done this with roughly a dozen people, and believe me, inner worlds are _wild_.”

“What happens after that?”

“What happens is that when I get the sense that you are sufficiently focused on your inner world, I go into mine, and you just sort of pop into yours.”

“ _What_?”

“It’s like yawning. You feel this little spiritual _whoosh_ and you can’t help doing it yourself.”

Rukia looked very skeptical, but she was already sitting up and pulling her legs into position. “Why didn’t we do this first?”

“I’m not real confident this is going to work. I mean, it works. It works more often than not with people who just don’t know how to do _jinzen_. Your situation is different, there’s maybe something that’s _keeping_ you from doing it. In any case, I didn’t want you to feel down before we got started. But you did a ton of good stuff today, and you’re gonna do it again tomorrow by yourself while I am supervising an eight-hour long Emergency Preparedness Drill.” He handed over her sword and settled his own across his knees.

She took a deep breath. “You know, some people are very private about their inner worlds.”

“Yeah, I do. If you don’t want to say it out loud, you don’t have to, you can just think it. Talking really helps the Squad 11 guys, though, they’re not really used to… thinking in words.”

Rukia thought for a moment about the private places of her life. She thought about her inner world. She thought about the places they had lived in Rukongai, which she had never once described to anyone she had met in the Seireitei. She thought about visiting strange corners of Karakura, looking for Hollows, just her and Ichigo. “No, it’s cool. Let’s do this.”

Rukia futzed with Sode no Shirayuki for a few moments, getting the weight comfortably balanced over both knees. When she was satisfied, she looked up at Renji, who was watching her patiently. He closed his eyes. She waited a minute, maybe to make sure he was going to keep them closed, before she closed her own.

“It’s cold,” she started off confidently. “That’s the defining feature, the cold. It’s brutally, awfully cold, but it feels so, so good. In the Living World, they have this thing called ‘air conditioning’ to keeps their houses cold when it’s summertime. Sometimes, shops will have it on too strong and you come in from outside and your whole body chills and it feels _great_. My inner world is like that, but terrifyingly, amazingly cold. There’s a pond. It’s sort of in a clearing in a forest, all evergreens, pines and firs. Sode no Shirayuki likes to take different shapes, creatures that live in the forest. A hare, an owl, a macaque. Usually small, but once she was a bear. Sometimes she’s just… a patch of cold. It doesn’t matter, I always know it’s her. She doesn’t talk, usually. Twice, she has wanted to talk to me, and she appears in the form of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, like an Ice Queen in a fairy tale. The main feature, though, is the pond. There’s a waterfall above it, and one below it, but they’re both frozen solid, just this cliff of huge, jagged icicles hanging above. I’ve peeked down the lower waterfall, but there’s just fog below. The pond sometimes has a ring of ice around the edge, but it’s never frozen over in the center. The water is cold, much colder than water could possibly be. I’ve… I’ve had to get in it. It’s like… the coldest thing there is. The thing that defines ‘cold’. The life just flows out of you.”

Rukia felt a brief, disorienting sensation of falling backwards, and, much to her surprise, it was all before her. The snow, the trees, the waterfalls. But something was wrong. It was much too warm, maybe only a few degrees below freezing. The pond was covered with a cloudy sheet of ice, thick enough to walk on.

Sode no Shirayuki was not there.

 

Water pummeled him briefly before he landed sharply on his ass. Renji came up sputtering and spitting.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zabimaru demanded from the shore, lounging and eating a piece of fruit as noisily as possible.

“I think I came in halfway up the waterfall,” Renji commented, squeezing out his hair and wading to shore.

“You can’t get up there,” the snake head informed him, since the monkey’s was busy.  “We keep telling you that.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” Renji plopped down on the shore of the noisy river that wound through the jungle of his own inner world. He gazed up at the waterfall, a massive, powerful cataract. Zabimaru had made him try to climb it once as an object lesson in futility. The cliff-face behind it was too sheer, and constantly slippery with mist. Renji was vaguely convinced that if he got powerful enough, he would be able to do it, and gave it a go about once a year. From here, he could just barely make out a second waterfall, a level above it.

“You weren’t focusing,” the monkey head chided him around its disgusting piece of fruit. “This is your world. We make you strong. Why were you thinking of somewhere else?”

“Don’t get your tails in a bunch. I’m trying to help Rukia get to her inner world. I do this all the time with the kids, you know that. No need to get all jealous and uppity.”

Zabimaru put down their piece of fruit and wiped the back of their mouth with one paw. “What is wrong with Rukia’s inner world?”

“Her powers still aren’t back,” Renji replied. “It’s probably from getting thrown in the Shishinro when she was already weak. She’s got plenty of reiryoku, but she’s having a lot of trouble generating reiatsu.”

“That fool,” Zabimaru snarled, abandoning their fruit in favor of stalking around irritably.

“It’s not her fault,” Renji protested.

Zabimaru regarded him curiously. “Oh, you meant Rukia, of course.”

Renji’s brow furrowed. “Wait, who did _you_ mean?” Strange ideas were coming into his head. “Do you know Rukia’s zanpakutou? How could you know Rukia’s zanpakutou? I didn’t meet you until after she had been adopted.”

“We are with you long before you meet us,” Zabimaru grumbled. “And who said we knew that foolish ice spirit? We most certainly do not. Do not ask us any more questions.”

Renji was abruptly dry and back in Kuchiki Byakuya’s extended back yard. Rukia was regarding him sadly.

“Didn’t work, huh? Sorry about that. I thought it was worth a try.”

“It worked. She wasn’t there.”

“Oh. _Oh._  What do you think that means?”

“I don’t _know._ ”

Renji wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do, but he decided to risk it. He reached out and rested his hand on top of hers, where she was gripping Sode no Shirayuki’s sheath with white knuckles. “Rukia. It could mean lots of things. Let’s focus on the good thing-- you got there. That’s huge! And now we know something new. You’re very tired and we need to go get you something to eat. Okay?”

“Okay,” she echoed in a tiny voice.

Renji patted her hand cheerfully. “You just sit there for a minute while I pack up.” He continued to chatter as he scooped up their gear and stuffed it back in the bag. “Hey, Rukia, do you remember ever seeing a waterfall as kids? Like when we would go out in the woods in the summertime, did we ever come across one?”

Trying to remember helped shake her out of her reverie. “Not that I recall. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just… I mean you have one in your inner world and so do I. I thought that was interesting. Maybe someplace we had been once.”

“A lot of people have waterfalls in their inner worlds.”

“Do they?”

“How should I know?” She stumbled to her feet. “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was low in the sky by the time they had returned to the manor. Rukia was a little unsteady on her feet, but she had made it back under her own power.

As Renji was checking back in with a guard, the steward appeared.

“Lady Rukia, we weren’t sure what your plans were for this evening. Lord Byakuya wishes to rest, and will not be down for dinner.”

Meaning, the cook hadn’t bothered to make anything good. Fine by Rukia, she had little interest in putting on a kimono in order to eat in that echo-y dining room by herself. “Can I just have some leftovers?” she asked, perhaps a little too pitifully.

“You may certainly have a _cold dinner_ , miss,” the steward corrected her. His eyes darted to her companion. “And will Lieutenant Abarai be joining you?”

Renji looked over when he heard his name.

“Yes, he’s staying.”

“Huh? Oh, Rukia, I can’t--”

“What are you gonna do, go eat in the mess?”

“Well, yeah, but--”

“He’s staying.”

“Very good, miss. Would you like anything in particular to eat?”

“She needs some protein,” Renji announced.

The steward look mildly scandalized.

“Himono would be lovely,” Rukia shrugged. “Also, if there are still some of those sweet buns from yesterday, I want those for dessert.”

“Very good, miss.”

The steward spared Renji a withering glare before disappearing again.

“What did I do?” Renji asked, throwing up his hands.

“Made me look less bad than usual, thanks.”

 

Thirty minutes, Rukia felt much better with some food in her belly.  

Renji was trying to write out her new workout schedule, while simultaneously trying to stuff a third sweet bun into his face. “Did you like the skull-splitters?”

“I did not. I couldn’t even do one.”

“Well, you should try to do one every day, just do your best.”

“Why do they all have such dumb names?”

“Because Squad 11. You’re just lucky Yachiru doesn’t care about any of this stuff, or the names would be much, much worse.” He finished the list with a flourish, closed the notebook, and slid it across the table to her. “All yours now. These buns are good.”

“What’s, uh, your schedule look like? You said you were real busy.”

“Are you asking when I’m gonna come see you again?”

Rukia took an unnecessarily long sip of tea. “Yeah.”

“Well. I mentioned I have this simulated disaster thing tomorrow, that’s all day. Friday’s a normal workday, although I’ll have to do a post-mort on the training exercise. Saturday, I’m technically off, but I have a lot of one-on-ones scheduled with my unseated kids, mostly in the afternoon.”

“How is that ‘off’?”

“It’s fun. They’re nice kids. I mean, it was already scheduled. I’ll keep next Saturday open for you. Sunday… Sunday should be good.”

Rukia stared into her tea, crestfallen.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“That’s a really long time.”

While he was sympathetic to her plight, he really was, Renji couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit flattered that she wanted to see him. “Do you think Captain Kuchiki would mind if I had you out late?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, tomorrow’s thing is a joint exercise with 7, and we’re including the 9 folks, too, so I’ll probably go out for drinks with Iba and Hisagi afterwards. You could tag along, if you’re interested.”

Rukia made the fatal mistake of trying to visualize how this would play out in actuality. “I can’t go drinking with your friends!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t think there’s anything against it in the Rules.”

“They’re _vice-captains_ , Renji!”

“I’m a vice-captain. So what?”

The tension of the long day was starting to boil over in Rukia. “So? So, I am an _unseated officer_ , and right now, I’m not even that.”

“Vice-captains are like honorary nobility. That’s why I can visit you now.”

“Yes, but nobility does not make me an honorary vice-captain! Do you really think your friends want to drink with _Captain Kuchiki’s little sister_?”

“You’re very likable.”

“That’s not even remotely true! This-- this is why we can’t be friends!”

Renji froze.

“You think you’ve made vice-captain, and that just erases all the differences between us, and we’re all the same now, but it _doesn’t_. You’re really strong, Renji! Really, really strong. I bet, even if I had my powers back, if you really let your reiatsu out, I couldn’t even stand, I couldn’t even speak, have you thought of that? And you know what else? You may be ‘honorary’ nobility, but do you know what actual nobility thinks of that?”

“Rukia,” he said, his voice sharp with warning.

“Maybe there’s a reason you’re always hanging out with the babies in your squad instead of the seated officers, the ones who all have the same three surnames!”

Renji stood up. “Rukia, you’re really tired, and I think maybe you should get some sleep.”

“And I’m sure you have three hundred pages of paperwork to do and a bunch of weights to lift!” Her eyes met his, daring him to retort.

“Do your exercises,” he bit off. “I will see you in a few days.” Without breaking eye contact, he picked up one more bun, stuffed it in his kosode, then turned on his heel and left.

 

~end part 2


	3. Chapter 3

_Thursday morning_

As Rukia was finishing up her last set of something mysteriously called “Hollow Huggers”, she felt herself being watched. She glanced at the doorway, expecting a servant, and started when she saw, instead, her brother, clad in workout dress himself.

“Oh!” she gasped. Usually, even in her weakened state, she could feel Byakuya wherever he was, but these spiritual pressure exercises had her wrung dry. “I’m sorry, Brother, would you like to use the dojo? I just need to stretch, and then I’m finished.

Byakuya stepped inside, carrying a wooden sword, regarding her coolly as she moved to the corner to pull one arm across her body.

“What in the name of Soul Society were you doing?” he asked, clearly perplexed.

“Oh. Some… exercises for building reiatsu,” she mumbled. “You’ve probably never had that problem.”

It was true. Byakuya’s earliest spiritual exercises had entailed _controlling_ his massive roil of spiritual pressure, not trying to make it stronger. He hadn’t ever bothered to think that one might have to do the opposite. Something in his brain itched. “Abarai gave you that exercise to do.”

“Mmm,” Rukia agreed, pulling on the other arm.

“Is it working?”

“Who’s to say?” she replied, noncommittally.

“Do you… mind if I warm up?”

“Not unless you mind if I watch a little,” she said shyly. “Your form is very beautiful, Brother.”

He was pleased at this bit of flattery. This, and the long isolation of his sickness, made him uncharacteristically chatty. “Did you know the Kuchiki family has its own sword form, Rukia?”

“Oh, yes, but you are the only living family member that knows all three parts,” Rukia replied, a little too eagerly.

“True,” he replied, puffed up a bit more. “You need immense spiritual power to perform the second level, and the third level is never taught outside of the main family line.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he swept through his warm-up kata. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were shining. A bizarre, possibly manic idea overtook him. “Rukia.”

“Yes, Brother?”

“When you are recovered, would you like me to teach you the first form?”

She gasped. “Oh, I couldn’t--” she swallowed. “Yes. Yes, I would love that. W-would you?”

“I promised your sister I would care for your needs and protect you, but I had never gotten the sense you were much interested in the other parts of being a Kuchiki,” he explained blandly.

“Well,” Rukia stammered, stretching down to touch her toes so he wouldn’t see her face. “I don’t know about all the fancy parts, I’m not very good at those, but I do like the idea of having a brother and a family. And a sword form.”

Byakuya finished his kata, and stood for a moment, thoughtfully. “When I was a child, I often imagined what it would be like to have a sibling. A younger brother, specifically. Mostly, I imagined I would teach him how to swordfight, although he would never be as good as me.”

“I will never be as good as you, either,” Rukia promised. “And I had four younger brothers back in Rukongai, they’re a lot of trouble, to be honest.”

“ _Really_? Do you ever… see them...anymore?” The idea of her traveling out to that cursed district made his skin crawl, whether she had her powers or not.

Rukia’s face turned sad. “Three of them died a long time ago. The other one isn’t… he’s not really my brother anymore. I’m not sure what he is.”

Byakuya put two and two together. “Abarai, again.”

“Yeah.”

Byakuya tapped his sword against his foot. “Rukia. Is the arrangement not going well?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s good! It’s just...I said something really mean to him yesterday.”

Her brother looked entirely unconcerned. He said mean things to Abarai all the time. “Did he threaten to not come back?”

“No, but I’m worried that I hurt his feelings.”

Byakuya had never once cared about hurting Abarai’s feelings. “It was my impression that one of the benefits of having siblings is that when you hurt their feelings, they are obligated to forgive you.”

Rukia looked miserable.

“Why did you say it?”

“Because I’m jealous of him,” Rukia admitted sullenly. “He’s so strong and smart and I’m just me.”

Byakuya made the most horrified expression his noble face was capable of. “Abarai is awful. I much prefer you.”

Rukia’s mouth hung open.

Byakuya started waving his sword around again.

Rukia was silent for a long time. She watched Byakuya practice his form. Finally, when he stopped for a stretch, she spoke again. “Brother-- that agreement you gave him?”

“He showed it to you?”

“He had trouble with some of the language.”

“Of course he did.”

“You want him around, don’t you? A friend of the family. Like Lieutenant Shirogane,” she said, referring to the previous vice-captain of the Sixth Division. He and his family were fixtures at family functions, and occasionally even invited over for tea or a meal. Then again, the Shiroganes were a noble clan in their own right who owed fealty to the Kuchikis. The Abarais were just some unknown family in the living world who had lost a child some sixty-odd years ago.

Byakuya froze.

“Why?” Rukia pressed. “If you don’t like him.”

Why did he have to have a sister who was so damnably observant _and_ clever? He considered lying to her, but decided the truth might be easier in the long run. At least part of the truth.

“As you know…” he bit off. “I am saddled with a number of useless senior officers, coasting on their family connections and naturally high spiritual pressure. He…irritates them.”

Rukia’s eyes went wide.

“Furthermore, the unranked officers that work with him see marked improvement, which, of course, scares the lazier seated ones. He’s got them on their toes.” Byakuya’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t imagine how much it would rankle them if he showed up at a family event.” He regarded his sister seriously. “Rukia. You cannot tell him this. I have few pleasures in this existence, and watching Abarai ham-hand his way through formalities is one of them.”

“I will not,” she promised.

“You are irritatingly easy to talk to,” he informed her. “You are distracting me. You may stay if you wish to watch the first form, but you must be silent. Or you may depart.”

“I’ll stay and be quiet. Thank you, Brother.”

“And pay attention.”

“I will, Brother.”

 

* * *

 

_Thursday evening_

 

“I can’t believe we got plague _again_ ,” Hisagi sighed, throwing back his sake. “I think I’ve gotten plague the last three Emergency Preparedness Drills.”

“I still think we should have taken our own names out of the draw for Patient Zero,” Renji grumbled. “We weren’t intended to _start_ _out_ down a vice-captain.”

“I take a lot of risky behaviours, it’s very believable that I could bring back some hideous disease and infect the rest of the Seireitei,” Iba shrugged. “Anyway, it was great, I took, like, three naps."

“And then you gave it to Komamura-taichou, and we were down our only captain, too!” Renji complained, gesturing at the werewolf captain, whom Iba had invited to come drinking with them.

“You did very well, Abarai,” Komamura granted him.

“Sort of.” Renji rubbed the back of his neck.

“You lasted seven hours into the exercise,” observed Hisagi, who had ‘died’ in hour three. “You had contracted the plague, and were down to 10% health. You were fighting a Hollow that showed up when a Rukongai district went into panic conditions, and then a building fell on you because your own Third Seat wasn’t careful about his splash damage. You went out in the most Abarai way possible.” None of these things had actually happened, of course. The Emergency Preparedness Exercise was mostly a matter of drawing lots and making people go stand in different groups and keeping track of your current status on a card, with some occasional sparring matches to keep things interesting.

“I ran out of health points! And I honestly think it’s unfair, because I’m actually very good at hanging on when I am really close to dying. As you can tell, because I am here, and not dead.”

“Abarai,” Komamura said gently. “Did it occur to you that this exercise is not just for the leadership?”

“Eh?” Renji asked, sipping his sake.

“You have eighteen seated officers under you, who must be capable of acting independently and making good decisions. In a real situation, of course Iba and I would do anything to protect our company, but I rather enjoyed sitting back and seeing what they would do on their own.”

“Yeah, I really liked the way Otsue and Teshigahara set up that tiered quarantine system. It ended up falling apart eventually, but it was a cool idea,” Iba offered.

“And it’s just a simulation,” Hisagi shrugged. “It’s good to make mistakes, because maybe then you won’t make them in a real situation. Like when we forgot to secure the medicine crates and got raided by Rukongai rebels. Make sure you give that Third Seat some shit for not paying attention to where he’s destroying buildings.”

Renji rested his chin in his palm. He wasn’t entirely Ohno sure hadn’t done that on purpose.

“Anyway, we’re gonna have to talk about this for about three hours tomorrow with Sasakibe, can’t we talk about something else?” Iba suggested.

“I’m working on a new song,” Hisagi burst in, having obviously being looking for an opening to work it into the conversation. “It’s about betrayal by someone you really admired.”

“I would be interested in hearing that,” Komamura said eagerly.

Renji tried to exchange a Look with Iba, but the man was wearing his sunglasses. In a dim bar. At night. Renji was both extremely relieved that Rukia hadn’t wanted to come along, and desperately wished that she had. He hadn’t realized it until she said it out loud, but hanging out with vice-captains wasn’t necessarily something you _got_ to do, it’s just that power tended to separate you out, and it was lonely at the top. And weird.

Hisagi was crooning now, and a high-pitched, whiney noise seemed to be coming from the general vicinity of Komamura. The captain’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be getting pretty into it.

Renji elbowed Iba. “Is he okay?” he whispered.

Iba looked at his captain, and panicked as the whimpering noise started to get a little higher. “Captain! Captain, you’ll get us kicked out again!”

Komamura threw back his head and howled.

 

* * *

 

_Friday morning_

 

Captain Hitsugaya was coming out as Renji was going in through the outer door of the 10th Division offices. The smaller man narrowed his eyes, gave Renji the once-over, and then gave him a curt nod. “Abarai.”

“Captain Hitsugaya.”

“You looking for me?”

“I’m here to see your second, actually.” Renji waggled the pile of paper in his hands. “We ended up with a bunch of personnel files from the 5th that I think should have come over here.”

“Carry on, then.” Hitsugaya slid on his sandals and continued on his way.

Matsumoto peered through the open doorway curiously as Renji dealt with his own footwear. “He likes you, now,” she observed.

“Does he?” Renji asked skeptically. “Did he say something?”

“Didn’t you see how friendly he was to you?” She was quite serious. Renji wondered if he would eventually become as skilled at distinguishing his own captain’s subtle gradations of grumpiness. “It’s either because you faced down Aizen, or because you’ve been visiting Hinamori. Or both.” She eyed the pile of paperwork as he hauled it onto her desk. “You can throw _that_ directly out the window. What’s with the personal delivery? You have underlings now, sweetie, that’s what they’re _for._ ”

“I didn’t even know your captain knew who I was. Anyway, I wanted to bring you this.” Renji produced a bottle of decent, but not-too-expensive sake, and settled it on her desk.

Rangiku clapped her hands delightedly. Then she eyed him with mock suspicion. “You want a favor, don’t you?”

“It’s more like back-pay.” He gave her a bow of gratitude. “Thanks for taking care of Kira.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re thanking me for getting your pal wasted?”

Renji looked off to the side. “Our friendship got pretty messed up a while ago. I’m really worried about him, but he doesn’t need me up in his business right now.” He sighed. “You really helped me a while back when I wasn’t doing so well. I’m glad he has you.”

Matsumoto flipped her hair. “Walking disasters _are_ my specialty. I am basically a miracle worker, you know.”

Renji chose to ignore that. “Also, how… are _you_ doing?”

Matsumoto leaned back in her chair, throwing her arms out dramatically. “Darling, a man I had cut out of my life long ago has revealed himself as scum of the lowest order. This is my time. I am glorious.”

Renji raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

She crossed her arms. “That information is 100% accurate as of this moment. Come back in an hour and I’ll tell you something different.”

“Well.. if you need anything…”

“Ugh, Abarai, you sweet summer child! You absolute marshmallow! Get out of here, you’re giving me hives!”

“Okay, but you have my number,” he said, very seriously.

Matsumoto narrowed her eyes. “Renji,” she said, warningly.

“Yeah?”

“Friendship isn’t a battle. You’re a straightforward guy and I know you want to approach these things by running in with your sword drawn. But hurt feelings take time to heal. People are changed by the things that happen to them. Sometimes, broken friendships can be mended, and sometimes they can’t, no matter how hard you try.”

“I have literally made some of my best friends by beating them up or getting beaten up by them.”

“I know that, and that’s why I’m telling you this. That works sometimes, and on some friends. And not on others.”

“I’m trying to give Kira space, but it really hurts. I wish there was something I could do. I hate giving people space.”

“I know, sweetie. But I’ll keep an eye on him for you, don’t worry.”

I hate giving people space, his brain repeated, as though that were important in some other area of his life. He shook his head. “I gotta get over to Squad One, I got a debrief with the Lieutenant.”

“Oh, Renji, before you go…” Matsumoto trilled, obviously trying to keep him from leaving on a down note.

“Yeah?”

“I know you got bankai _and_ I know what that means. When. Are. We. Getting. Butt. Tattoos?”

Renji’s face split into a grin as he shot her finger guns. “Three weeks! I made the appointment this morning!”

 

* * *

 

Rukia was waiting outside the main gates with her guard when Renji ran up, out of breath.

“Oh, good!” he gasped. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

Rukia colored. “What’s going on?” She had gotten a text from him that morning that had simply said, “Be ready at 11:45, going to lunch.”

“Let’s talk on the way,” he said. “We don’t need to run, but let’s get moving, I want you to have as much of the lunch hour as you can.”

Rukia had pictured in her head how this was going to go, and it had not involved trying to keep pace with a speed-walking Renji. “Slow down, dummy, you forgot about my tiny stump legs!” she finally exclaimed.

Embarrassed, he slowed his pace.

Rukia frowned. She’d given him a perfect opening to make fun of her height, and he had let it pass. He must still be mad at her.

“Renji, about the other night--”

“You were right.”

She stopped short. “What?”

“I overstepped. You were very clear early on, how you felt about all this, and I’ve been going on like it was old times again.”

She started walking again. “Then why are we going to lunch?”

“We’re not going to lunch, _you’re_ going to lunch with one of _your_ friends, and I’m going to be there, doing my job and keeping you safe.”

“One of my friends!” Rukia looked around, trying to figure out what part of the Seireitei they were in. “But this isn’t the 13th.”

“You’ll see.”

“Anyway, Renji, I said some mean things--”

“People say mean things to me all the time. It wasn’t untrue, and it wasn’t anything I didn’t know.”

She felt her heart sink down into her stomach.

“And you were tired and you weren't feeling well and I forgive you. Unless you don’t want me to, then I can continue to cry myself to sleep at night.”

“Oh, shut up! Of course I want you to forgive me. Is this Squad 4?”

“Rukia! You came!”

Rukia screeched to a halt. Wide-eyed, she stared at Renji, and then turned back to--

“Hanatarou?”

The slight healer ran up to her, practically bouncing. “Oh, Rukia, I’m so glad. I wasn’t sure you would come.”

Rukia couldn’t help herself. She hugged him.

“Oh!” Hanatarou exclaimed.

“Yamada was on-deck for our training exercise yesterday,” Renji explained. “He asked me how you were doing, said he hadn’t heard from you.”

Hanatarou blushed.

“And I thought about what you said, and I thought it would be good for you to spend some time with one of your actual friends.”

“Oh, Lieutenant Abarai, we’re not actually friends, we just got to know each other a little when she was in jail and then I was able to help her out some. It was my privilege.”

“Friends you make in jail are the best friends,” Renji intoned, as though this were some sort of common wisdom.

“I am happy to see you, Hanatarou,” Rukia interrupted. “And maybe we weren’t formal friends before, but you were very, very kind to me, and I would be honored if you considered me your friend going forward.”

“Oh!” Hanatarou said, his face turning deep purple. “Do you want to have lunch? The Squad 4 cafeteria is actually quite good.”

“I would love to,” Rukia agreed. “You heard so many of my stories, I would love to hear more about you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very interesting, especially compared to someone like you or Ichigo,” Hanatarou confessed.

“Well, maybe I’ve had enough of that kind of interesting story for a while. You’re a healer, though, you must have some gross injury stories.”

“Oh, you like those?"

" _Do_ I?"

Oh, boy, Renji thought, his face already turning a little green as he followed them into the dining hall.

 

* * *

 

“Renji, thank you,” Rukia said earnestly, once they had gotten Hanatarou back to work. As vice-captain, Renji had a little more flexibility regarding his own schedule, especially considering how many extra hours he had been putting in lately.

“If there’s anyone else you want to see, we can make it happen,” he promised. “Um. Soul Society people.” He wasn’t sure he could manage to smuggle her out to the World of the Living.

Rukia chewed on her bottom lip. “Kiyone and Sentarou have both been texting me.” She sighed. “Maybe it’s time to visit the 13th.”

“I bet they miss you,” Renji said encouragingly. “We could go on Sunday? That’s everyone’s day off, maybe it would be a little more low-key.”

“Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ll think about it.”

“Speaking of…” he rubbed the back of his neck and gazed off into the other direction. “I moved some of my one-on-ones around, so Saturday morning is free now. If you want me to come by and see how your exercises are doing.”

“Oh,” Rukia said softly. “You would be training people all day.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“The exercises are going pretty well, actually,” she sniffed, using her Lady Rukia voice. “I’d actually like to stick with what we’ve got for a few more days before you go messing around with my regimen again.”

“Oh. Sure. Sure, that’s fine,” he agreed. She watched his face out of the corner of her eye. He was still staring off in the opposite direction, avoiding her gaze. Was he disappointed? He was trying to hide it, but she was pretty sure he was.

“But,” she went on, “if you wanted to get me out of the house for a bit on Saturday morning, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Huh?” She enjoyed watching the idea percolate into his brain and then spread onto his face in the form of a giant grin. She averted her eyes, just in time, as he turned to look at her. “Yeah, of course!”

“It’s almost fall, do you think the leaves have started to turn in South Rukongai, yet?”

“It’s _mid-August_ , I think you’re jumping the gun. But if you want, we could walk down to the Red Hollow Gate overlook and look.”

“It’s _late_ August, and I would like that very much.” Even though she kept her eyes pointed strictly forward, she could tell he had made that face again, the same face he had made the first night, after he brought her home. Sort of a peaceful, happy face, aimed directly at her. She definitely liked that face, now, and she definitely liked making him make it. “Until tomorrow, then.”

 

* * *

 

_Saturday morning_

 

Renji was whistling cheerfully as he trotted up to the front Gates of Kuchiki Manor shortly after sunrise.

Rukia was standing at the front gate, wearing a cotton yukata the pale blue of a perfect sky, patterned with sunny yellow flowers. Her face, above it, was a storm cloud.

The whistle died on Renji’s lips when he realized why. Instead of her usual impatient guardsman, it was her brother standing next to her, looking like a larger, darker rain cloud.

“Good morning, Captain, Lady Rukia,” Renji said nervously. Why was he _here_?

Byakuya was never one to beat around the bush. “I received the results of the Joint Emergency Preparedness Exercise from Lieutenant Sasakibe.”

Renji’s face fell. “Sir.”

“It was full of nonsense about lessons learned and points of improvement. I know you are new here, but I feel the need to impress upon you, Lieutenant, that _Sixth Company plays to win_.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sir!” Renji barked. “It was an unacceptable failure, and I take full responsibility!”

Byakuya blinked. He had expected stammered excuses, not this.

“I have split the 3rd through 12th seats into two teams, evens and odds, and assigned each team to perform a full retrospective, which we will be discussing on Tuesday. I thought the competition would be good. I assigned the 13th through 20th seats each an individual aspect of the exercise to reconsider. I have assigned myself the task of re-tooling the exercise so that we can re-run it as an individual squad later in the week, without all that dead wood from 7 and 9.”

“Ah, but the dead wood provides an additional level of challenge.”

“That’s true. Maybe I can add in some more random events.”

“I have considered this myself--”

Rukia’s head whipped back and forth between them. What. Was. Happening? She tugged on Byakuya’s sleeve gently. “Brother?”

“--better use of temporary barricades--”

“Brother!”

He looked down at her. “Yes, Rukia?”

“It’s Renji’s day off. Can’t you yell at him on a workday?”

Byakuya blinked. “Ah, of course. That would explain why he is wearing... _whatever that is_. Dark neutrals are your friend, Abarai, grey or navy.”

Renji looked down at his own yukata, light green and tan. It looked fine to him. “Uh, thanks? Sir?”

“Brother, can we _go_?”

Byakuya frowned. “I am feeling much improved. I hope to be back in the office late next week, or early the following. Don’t run any exercises until I’m back, Abarai”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may go, I suppose. Have…a nice time. Sister. Lieutenant.” He watched as his sister grabbed his much larger lieutenant by the elbow in order to haul him bodily down the lane. It was not so hard to imagine them as a pair of rambunctious, itinerant children. He headed back into his home to think about Emergency Preparedness Exercises in peace and quiet, for as long as it lasted.

 

* * *

 

“I think I see one bright red tree. It’s way out there. I bet it’s in Inuzuri. Can you see it from down there?”

“I cannot, but I think it’s because it’s in your imagination, not because you’re higher up than me.”

There was a high embankment that buttressed the inner side of the Seireitei’s south-facing wall, and also afforded a good view of the outer districts. On a pleasant fall day, the embankment was a popular spot to enjoy the seasonal foliage.

It was only a few hours past dawn, it wasn’t actually fall yet, and the sky was threatening rain. Rukia and Renji had the embankment to themselves.

Rukia, as was her way, had immediately abandoned her footwear and scrambled into the upper branches of the tallest tree she could find, a sturdy old oak that was just right for climbing. Renji sat at the base, watching the clouds scud across the sky and wondering if they were going to get drenched on the way home.

“You should come up here,” Rukia called down. “You would be able to see it.”

“Nah,” Renji replied, using the bark of the tree to scratch his back. “This is the way it should be. You, up there with your head in the stars, me, down here with my feet on the ground.”

There was silence for a minute and then, “I brought you an orange. Do you want it?”

“Yeah, sure, toss it down.”

“I shall not. You have to come up here to get it.”

She really wanted him up there, huh? “Rukia, climbing trees stopped being a good idea for me once I hit 5’10” or so. And who’s going to watch your shoes if I come up there?”

“No one is going to take my shoes! And I’m tired of shouting, I want you to come up here.”

Renji sighed and stood up. He was able to reach the lowest branch flat footed (Rukia had taken a running jump), and hefted himself up into the branches of the tree.

Rukia smiled at his contortions as he tried (and mostly failed) to keep from hitting his head on tree branches. When he got close, she scrambled up to a slightly higher and smaller branch. “You should take that sturdy one,” she told him, “for the weight of all those dumb muscles.” As he settled himself on the indicated limb, she realized she had picked very well: their faces were at exactly the same height. “You did it,” she congratulated him.

“Gimme my orange,” he grumbled, adjusting his bandanna, which had gone askew.

She tossed it poorly on purpose;  he had to dive to catch it and almost fell off his branch.

“Why’d you want me up here, anyway?” he asked, digging his thumb into the peel.

Rukia leaned against the trunk of the tree, popping a wedge of her own orange into her mouth. “I don’t like my friends down on the ground, waiting to catch me if I fall. I want my friends to hold my hand so we can jump off cliffs together.”

“Are we friends now?” he asked skeptically.

“I haven’t decided yet. Climbing the tree worked in your favor.” She sighed. “You didn’t answer my question the other day. Did you work your way up to lieutenant for the express purpose of being friends with me again?”

He looked over at her, expecting to see her dark blue eyes staring at him, but she was gazing out at Rukongai again, scanning for that one red tree.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Why do we do anything?”

“That was an amazingly uninformative answer.”

Renji tried to figure out something to do with his legs. There were too many nearby branches to dangle them comfortably, but it was too tricky to get them folded under him and still maintain his balance. “You think I’m strong, Rukia?”

“Of course I do, you dummy! Is there any question?”

“I thought I was, too. Ran with Zaraki and his top guys. Passed my lieutenant’s exams. Got my bankai.” He stuffed half the orange in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Meanwhile, you gave your powers to a human you just met. Ran around fighting Hollows with nothing but some weak-ass kido and a busted gigai. You...made friends with a Quincy, some human kids with powers we’ve never seen, and some old captains that got banished from Soul Society a century ago.” Rukia felt it best not to mention the mod soul. “You’ll jump headfirst into any Class 5 shitstorm you find. I thought I was getting strong so I could see you again, but it turns out I need to keep getting even stronger if I have any hope of _keeping up with you_.”

Rukia swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Renji, I--”

He wasn’t about to let her interrupt. “I’m gonna do it, though. The day you tame a Menos Grande and ride it into battle against Aizen, I’ll be right there behind you, carrying Yamada around on my back so there will be someone to heal your arms back on.”

She looked at his face, searching for signs of teasing, but there were none.

“I mean it,” he said, sensing her doubt. “You are the bravest, craziest, best person I know. And I will follow you anywhere.”

Her heart gave a double-thump. “Renji, you fool,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just told you. I don’t want you behind me, I want you at my side.” She held out her hand, fingers splayed wide. It was shaking. He rubbed the orange juice from his hand onto his yukata and reached out to take hers, lacing his long fingers through her much-smaller ones.

“Okay,” he agreed.

They jumped out of the tree together.

 

~end part 3


	4. Chapter 4

_Sunday morning_

“Thank you for allowing me to visit, Ukitake-taichou!” Rukia exclaimed, bowing to him.

“Nonsense, Rukia, we’ve all missed you,” her captain replied in his usual genial tone. “You’re welcome to visit any time. And… Lieutenant Abarai as well? I didn’t know you two were…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows and inviting them to complete the sentence. Ukitake liked his subordinate very much, but she had always maintained a certain air of nervous aloofness, and aside from a bit puppy-love directed his late vice-captain, tended to avoid entanglements. The sudden rebellion of this tall, fierce young officer during her rescue had piqued his curiosity, and Abarai’s presence here today had sent Ukitake’s gossip klaxons absolutely blazing _._

Renji and Rukia looked at one another blankly. Their faces contorted through a series of perplexed expressions, and finally, they abruptly blurted out at the same time, “We’re friends!”

“As of yesterday,” Rukia clarified unnecessarily.

“I’m helping her get her powers back,” Renji added.

Ukitake realized this was going to take some delicacy. “Ah, yes, how is that going?”

Rukia cut to the chase. “Taichou, have you ever heard of someone’s zanpakutou going… dormant? Unavailable?” She quickly summarized Byakuya’s diagnosis and her empty inner world.

“I certainly haven’t ever seen that personally,” Ukitake replied, when she had finished, clearly fascinated. “I have some books I could check for you.”

“I would really appreciate that, sir,” Rukia beamed.

“We don’t know that much about zanpakutou spirits,” he admitted. “One thing we do know is that they lie a lot, which makes these things difficult.”

Renji’s brows furrowed. “Zabimaru told me that they’ve been with me longer than I’ve been aware of it. Were they dormant, then?”

“Ooh, do you have a double zanpakutou, also?” Ukitake leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with nerdery.

“Ukitake-taichou, we were talking about _my_ zanpakutou,” Rukia reminded him gently. “I’m sure Renji will be happy to come by and talk about Zabimaru later.” Renji was not sure at all about that.

“Right!” Ukitake held up one finger. “Well, obviously, the majority of zanpakutou we know about belong to shinigami who have come through the Academy, and they tend to follow a standard schedule that coincides nicely with senior year. Is the zanpakutou dormant until then, or is it just that the shinigami isn’t capable of hearing them? I would tend toward the second, because you do have the occasional prodigy, like Hitsugaya-taichou, who is able to hear their zanpakutou in childhood.”

Renji nodded in agreement. Too bad, he thought they had been on to something for a moment.

Rukia’s brows creased. Something had occurred to her. She composed her face again. “Taichou,” she said brightly. “I don’t think we’re going to solve this right now. I’d really like to go see some of the other squad members, and I liked your idea of doing some sparring. If you think of something or you find something in the library, you can let me know, okay?”

Renji raised an eyebrow. She had an idea that she didn’t want to say in front of her captain.

“Oh, of course! Sentarou! Kiyone!”

“Is Rukia here?” Sentarou hollered as he and Kiyone fell in the door, as usual.

“I’ve already told everyone she’s here!” Kiyone hollered in turn.

Rukia couldn’t help but smile. It felt nice to be home.

 

* * *

 

Renji flopped onto the engawa, next to where Captain Ukitake was calmly sipping tea. Rukia was stepping into the sparring ring, ready to face off against another of the 13th’s unranked officers, who had been instructed to limit his reiatsu as much as possible. Renji had been giving her a break by squaring off against Sentarou and Kiyone at the same time. He hadn’t exactly _needed_ shikai to deal with them, but there was no need to humiliate them, and he also wasn’t above showing off a little. The other members of the 13th who were gathered around to watch seemed to have enjoyed it.

“That looked like fun,” Captain Ukitake observed, offering him a cup of tea.

Renji accepted it absently; his attention was already back on Rukia, who had made a strong opening, and looked to have this one in the bag already. “She really has very precise form,” he observed. “But you can tell how much she depends on her reiatsu for speed and power. Watching her, you can almost feel the vacuum in the air where her spiritual pressure should be.”

“It’s true,” Ukitake nodded.

“I was given her personnel file, when my captain and I were sent to retrieve her from the World of the Living. Two kidou-based sword attacks. 4th rank kidou-master certification. Cleared to use shunpo in battle.”

Ukitake sipped his tea and murmured vague agreement.

“You can’t tell me you have twenty guys here that are better than her. Captain.”

Ukitake put his teacup down and folded his hands in his lap.

“You know, I was one of the proctors on your lieutenant’s exam. I was rather disappointed when you didn’t apply for a position at the 13th. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a vice-captain. Now that I’ve met you, I’m even more disappointed that you didn’t.”

“About Rukia. Sir.”

Ukitake sighed. “When she’s on her game, I’m not sure I have _three_ shinigami better than her. I accepted Rukia into my squad under a very specific agreement. At the time, it was expected to be a vanity posting; her brother led me to believe that she was somewhat weak of spiritual constitution.” Ukitake frowned. “And so there was a certain clause of the contract that I did not expect to be an issue.”

“Kuchiki-taichou made you promise not to give her a seat.”

“Shh,” he said, glancing around for his ever-present co-Third Seats, but they were collapsed on the ground on the other side of the practice field. “My company was decimated by that Hollow that took the Shibas. We still haven’t recovered. I need Rukia, I need her badly. I can’t risk Kuchiki-taichou taking her away, and he will, if I break the agreement.”

Renji scowled. “It’s not fair to her.”

“Of course it’s not. But she doesn’t need the money, and she lives off-base anyway, it’s not as unfair as it could be.”

“She thinks she’s no good.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

Renji’s face was stony. “After she gets her powers back, I’m gonna train with her until she becomes the first unranked officer ever to pass the lieutenant’s exam, is what I’m gonna do. I’d like to see him try to keep her unseated, then.”

“I would very much like to see that,” Ukitake grinned. “And after he fires you, you’re welcome to apply for a job over here. That is, if you’re not a captain yourself by then. Why _did_ you pick the Sixth, Abarai?”

“It’s been, uh, a long-time dream of mine,” he managed, embarrassed. “Also, I didn’t really want to be Rukia’s commanding officer. Thought it would make things weird.”

“Ah. So, you’ve been thinking about becoming friends since sometime before yesterday, then.”

Renji choked on his tea. “Uh, yeah.”

“I suspected as much. The next time she needs a dramatic rescue, and I’m sure there will be a next time, we should try to coordinate. That Shihoin shield was very heavy, and I really could have used some help hauling it across the Seireitei.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice carefully measured. “But you should know that she _did not enjoy_ having to be rescued, and I don’t expect she’ll allow it to happen again.”

Ukitake chuckled. This young man seemed to have Rukia’s measure pretty well. He couldn’t wait to tell Shunshui.

 

* * *

 

Rukia lay in bed, running her fingers over the rough skin of an old scar on her abdomen. It was a large scar and there was a second, an echo, on her back, where the tusk had come out the other side.

 _“You do have the occasional prodigy,”_ Ukitake had said, “ _who is able to hear their zanpakutou in childhood.”_ Rukia knew she was no child prodigy, but she also knew she had felt her zanpakutou and Renji’s, too, the night she'd got that scar.

Inuzuri was brutally hot in the summertime, and the citizenry tended to become even more violent than usual. Rukia and her friends had lost their squat to a group of larger kids, and had decided to go live in the woods for remainder of the hot season.

At first, it had seemed like a good idea-- the cool shade of the trees was magnificent. Water could be found that, if you strained it through cloth, wouldn’t make you too sick. They could occasionally find berries or a scrawny animal to eat; she and Renji didn’t need much in those days and their friends didn’t really need food at all. It had felt like a utopia, just the five of them, no grown-ups anywhere.

Then, one night, she woke to a cloying, musky smell, and a monstrous snuffling. She sat up, her eyes desperately trying to adjust. There was no moon, and the trees blocked the light of the stars. A huge dark mass hovered over Fujimaru, who was about 10 yards from her.

Rukia fumbled around on the ground for a stick, a rock, something she could use as a weapon. There were a few fist-sized rocks, and she filled the crook of her left arm with them.

The thing grunted and Rukia realized it was a boar. It began worrying Fujimaru, who woke up to the smell of fetid breath and a huge leathery nose in his face. Naturally, he screamed, his voice high and reedy in the night.

The boar started to lunge forward, teeth bared, when it felt the sharp sting of a rock close to its eye. Its head whipped around, and it _bellowed_ , waking the rest of the camp instantly.

Rukia was hurling rock after rock after it. She might have been screaming. The next thing she remembered was her back slamming against a tree, the air forced from her lungs, and a burning, all-consuming pain in her side. The boar would have shaken her off next, maybe dragged her off into the woods, but for a moment, the two of them were locked, its tusk piercing her and pinning both of them to the tree. Despite the dark, Rukia could see its tiny eyes, sparkling with wildness.

An absolutely strange feeling came over her, the feeling of being becoming wild herself, of hurtling through the dark woods, trampling and slashing, and then _Renji_ was there, on top of the boar, brandishing a stick like a sword, screaming wordlessly and throwing off gouts of reiatsu like flame.

Almost simultaneously, she felt a flood of freezing cold energy run through her, stilling her fright, calming her panic.

A tree branch is not usually a piercing weapon, but when charged enough spiritual energy, the calculus changes a little bit. The branch went straight through the boar’s thick skull, top to bottom. In its dying throes, it shook its massive head, flinging Renji off in one direction, and Rukia in another.

She had hit the ground and rolled, coming to a stop lying on her back in a pile of leaves, gasping for breath. She knew she was dying, she could feel her life leaking out of the hole in her middle, but there was a strange new sensation, as well. It was as through a second heart had taken up residence in her chest, just below her normal one, pulsing like a star, creating blood and flesh and trying to knit her body back together.

Then her friends were around her, holding her hand, brushing her hair back, they were trying to talk to her, but she couldn’t hear them. Rukia couldn’t breath, couldn’t talk, couldn’t hear, couldn’t swallow.

And then Renji was there again, tears etching streaks through the dirt and blood that covered his face. “Hold on, Rukia,” she heard his voice very clearly “I think this is going to hurt real bad.”

It had. In fact, it had hurt so bad she had passed out almost immediately.

Healing kidou was a matter of delicacy and skill that required training and practice to perform correctly, particularly on a patient in critical condition. It was not something a hysterical child would be capable of doing spontaneously. What Renji had done instead was to shove a bunch of his own reiatsu into her wound, cauterizing it immediately, and saving her life. To be honest, this was also not something a hysterical, untrained child ought to have been capable of doing, but he had done it. The shock of it should have killed her outright, but it hadn’t, obviously.

There was a lot more to the story, but that was the important part: the part where she would have died in the woods on a hot, dark night if two zanpakutou hadn’t intervened to keep her alive.

She hadn’t recognized them as such at the time, but looking back now, it was undeniable.

She wondered if Renji had felt them also. There were a lot of hurt feelings in the aftermath of the boar incident, and so they had almost never mentioned it again once she was recovered, let alone discussed it in detail. It certainly hadn’t come up since they had each independently come to know their zanpakutou years later.

Your zanpakutou usually waited patiently until you were ready to hear them, but hers hadn’t, in the interest of preserving her life. Both their lives, she supposed, since Sode no Shirayuki would presumably die when she did.

Now, Rukia mused to herself. Where am I going to find another boar?

 

* * *

 

“Renji,” said Rukia, “I know what I need to do.”

There was no preface to this. She had texted him earlier and asked him to come by after work, if he could possibly manage it. He’d managed to finish up a little early and come straight over. As usual, she had been waiting for him at the gate, her guard eager to abandon her. She looked around, making sure there were no hard-working gardeners lurking about, then motioned him closer. “Do you bring Zabimaru today?”

“Yes, you asked me to,” he replied, suspiciously.

“I want to go to Yoruichi’s place,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you more when we get there.”

 

“YOO-HOOOOOO!” Renji hollered, sticking his head down the hole with one hand clapped over his eyes. “ANYONE HOOOOOOOOMMME?”

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Rukia grumbled.

“Look, you never know where Yoruichi might be, and also when she might be naked,” Renji pointed out. “But it looks like she’s not here now.”

“You just... found this place?” Rukia asked as she followed him through the well-disguised entrance. “Out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“It was more obvious with Kurosaki’s reiatsu pouring out of it,” Renji shrugged, bracing his hands and feet against the outsides of the ladder so he could slide down.

“Whoa,” Rukia commented, gazing around the vast, underground cavern. It was a lot… larger than she had expected. She slid down after him.

“So, you gonna tell me your big idea now?”

Rukia regarded him carefully. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she should have gone straight to the World of the Living. But some small part of her wanted to see if he would do this for her. She had dragged him all the way out here, might as well give it a go. “You don’t have to help me,” she said slowly. “But I want you to swear that if you won’t help, you won’t stop me, either.”

Renji felt a chill go down his back. Swears were serious business between them. He had a very bad feeling about this. “I could take you home right now.”

“You could.”

Their eyes met. Hers were dark and serious.

“What do you want me to swear on?”

“Our friendship.”

He took a sharp intake of breath. “Can I try to talk you out of it if I don’t like it?”

“If you must, but you can’t try to stop me and you can’t tell anyone else what’s I’m going to do.”

Renji’s nostrils flared. “I swear, on our friendship, that I will not try to stop you.”

Rukia’s eyes narrowed. “There are only a handful of people who can help me with this, and most of them would refuse. I am going to ask you, and if you say no, I am going to the World of the Living, where there are at least two people who I think would say yes.”

He regarded her silently.

“I want you to try to kill me.”

She expected him to protest, to call her crazy or stupid or say it was too big a risk. He didn’t. He just stood there, his jaw twitching.

“Everything I’ve been trying, none of it is going to work. She’s not going to come back by herself, no matter how long I wait. In fact, I feel like if I wait too long, she’s going to slip away. I need the intensity of battle. She won’t let me die.” She was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to _actually_ kill me, obviously. Just try. If it’s not working, we can give up.” As if it were some easy thing to get your killing intent up and then shove it aside at the critical second.

Renji felt his hands clench at his sides. “Don’t go to that Urahara guy. You can’t trust him, Rukia.”

“Ichigo will say yes.”

He might. In fact, he probably would. And he might even bring Rukia’s zanpakutou back. These sorts of miracles tended to happen around Ichigo, in a way that they didn’t seem to happen around Renji.

 _Do it_ , Zabimaru’s voice echoed in his head. Renji started. _It will work._

“Okay,” Renji said out loud.

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “Okay? Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” He took a deep breath. “I need a minute, okay? I gotta… get in the mindset.” He started to walk around, staring intently at the ceiling of the cavern. Could he even do this? He’d practiced killing battles on his Squad 11 mates all the time, but those guys were really hard to actually kill. With her reiatsu so low, Rukia might not be able to hold on if he wasn’t able to pull his arm in time.

“It’ll work,” she insisted.

His gaze snapped down to hers. “There’s a healing spring down here, and if I hurt you, I’m dumping you right in, you got it?”

“Sure.”

“And Rukia?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve done this a ton, I know it’s really rare for anyone to actually die in one of these things. But if… if… look, either both of us are walking out of here, or neither of us are, you got that? You understand?”

She knew what she was asking of him, but she hadn’t been quite prepared for _that_. To be honest, she was somewhat shocked he had even agreed. She’d half expected him to break his promise and rat her out to Byakuya. “It’ll work, Renji.”

“Okay.” He looked back up at the ceiling.

There were several places in his soul from which Renji could pull his intent to kill. The best place, the strongest place, was from the desire to protect his friends, his home, his Rukia. But in his younger, darker days, he had pulled it from the depths of his own self-loathing. In fact, this is where had pulled it on the second occasion that he fought Kurosaki Ichigo, and this is where he pulled it from now. He could never say no to her, and this is where it had gotten him. This is what he was good for, to her. He never wanted her to suffer for even a moment, but she didn’t hesitate to ask him to do things that went against his very being. Dark red reiatsu began to gather around him, nearly black. “You ready, Kuchiki?”

Rukia drew her sword with a long, loud rattle. “Come at me.”

He came with his sword sealed, at a fraction of his possible speed, and she was pressed immediately. She blocked his first blow, and the force of it pushed her back, throwing up clouds of dust at her feet. She jumped away, but he was there immediately. She tried to dodge, and his sword nicked her shoulder, tearing the cloth of her kosode. “Blood, already, Kuchiki?” he shouted. “You’ve gone soft!”

She lunged at him, and he sidestepped easily, clocking her on the back of her shoulder with the butt of his sword. “Pathetic!”

Rukia stumbled into the ground, and rolled to her feet. He was there _again_ , pushing her back. With every step he was getting faster and stronger. Everything she tried, he anticipated. Blood was running down into her eyes. When had that happened?

“What’s wrong, Rukia? Why won’t you take this seriously?”

“I am!” she shouted.

“Howl, Zabimaru!” Real, actual terror flooded down her spine. This was escalating too quickly. From this side of it, his zanpakuto was massive. Her eyes flicked to his face, and what she saw there turned her blood to pure ice.

Get it together, Kuchiki, she steeled herself. Fight for your pride! Fight for yourself! He left you, he left you alone! You are stronger than him, you have always been stronger than him! She swung at him, and he blocked it, forcing her away to the side. As she came in for another strike, he swung down from overhead, and she went down on one knee.

Renji stood over Rukia, Zabimaru raised high once more. He swung down with a crushing blow, once he knew was strong enough to break her sword. And as he swung down, to his horror, he felt an unbidden surge of reiatsu hurtle down his arm like a bolt of lightning, strengthening the blow into one that would shatter concrete.

Their swords made contact with a bone-jarring crash that rang through Rukia’s entire body.

“ ** _WAKE! UP!_ ** _”_

She was in her inner world, her hands clapped over her ears, as the words rang out, loud as thunder, everywhere at once. What she had first thought was one voice split into two, one low and gravelly, the other thin and papery, shouting from all sides.

“ _You promised! You promised you would protect her!”_

_“I have watched the boy! I have done my part, you liar! You coward!”_

_“Wake up, you lazy fool!”_

_“Wake up! Wake up!”_

She was standing on the huge boulder that overlooked the pond, and as she got used to squall of the voices, she looked down over the ice-crusted surface. There, near the center of the lake, was something pale, something trapped in the ice.

Rukia jumped.

She crashed through the ice, feet first, hands scrabbling at the chunks of ice around her. She blinked, trying to see what she was holding. It was a salmon, pale silver, with just a hint of pink on its belly. It was encased in a large chunk of ice.

Why is there ice here at all? she wondered, as she sank deep, deeper. It’s too warm, that’s why. This lake should be colder than cold, colder than ice.

She had touched the bottom of this lake once, in order to receive shikai. It had been so much colder then. She had needed to make herself cold, as cold as the icy black water around her, cold straight through to her heart. Maybe if she could make herself cold again, she could cool down the lake.

She sank and sank, letting her body absorb even the meager heat held by the dark waters and channel it away into some deep internal heat sink. Even though it made no physical sense, the ice in her hand began to soften, began to cool, and then, suddenly, the salmon shot out of her hands in a spray of bubbles.

Rukia took in a deep breath, expecting her lungs to fill with water, but they found air instead. Her eyes were focused on something in front of her face, a white, horizontal line cutting across her vision. She blinked, and it resolved into her zanpakutou, her beautiful, very own zanpakutou, one of Zabimaru’s wicked teeth hooked over the top edge. It had protected her, saved her life yet again.

A strangled noise came out of Rukia’s throat. “I-- I did it!”

Zabimaru shimmered, and shrank down to its sealed form. She could see Renji now, his face the color of overcooked rice. “Rukia--I didn’t mean to-- I don’t--”

“RENJI, WE DID IT!”

He blinked, took in her released blade and her living, breathing face, and a huge, relieved grin split his face.

“We did it!”

“We did it!” She leapt to her feet, and tackled him in a joyful hug. They spun, whooping and laughing, until Renji sank abruptly to the ground, inadvertently hauling her down with him.

“I almost killed you,” he gasped.

“That was the idea,” she reminded him. Carefully, she put her hand on top of his right hand, still gripping Zabimaru’s hilt. “Thank you, Zabimaru.” She felt a weird shiver vibrate back through his hand.

“What’re you thanking them for? They’re the ones that strengthened my blow at the last second! I think _my_ heart actually stopped.”

“They knew what they were doing,” Rukia said, her voice tinged with wonder. What the hell _had_ just happened?

“What did I ever do to deserve the lot of you?” Renji grumbled, but his voice was still shaky.

“You’ve been a very, very good friend,” she informed him. “That’s what you’ve done.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t even need me now. You wanna go tell your brother you got your powers back so he can lift the house arrest?”

She tilted her head and gazed at him fondly. “Well, now that I don’t _need_ you, we can hang out because we _want_ to. That is, if _you_ still want to. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

He took a moment to re-sheath his sword, and then put his arms around her, leaning his head onto her shoulder. “Yes, you have. And yes, I do.”

She ruffled his ponytail. “Good. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Rukia?” he looked up at her, eyes puffy. “You need better friends.”

 

~end part 4


	5. Epilogue

_Friday evening  
_

She thrust a basket at him as soon as he opened the door. “I brought some of those buns you like.”

“Thanks for coming early,” he said, accepting the buns.

“Am I… the first one here?” she asked, trying to peer through the door.

“Second!” Hisagi called, waving from the floor, where he was tuning his guitar, as if that would somehow help.

“Why are you on the floor?” Rukia asked.

“Becaaaauuse…” Renji gestured grandly (how was he eating a bun already?) “I wanted you to be the third one to sit on it.

“Wow!” Rukia exclaimed, impressed.

Truly, Renji had found the ugliest couch in Soul Society, which was now the focal point of his otherwise still-pretty-empty quarters.

“It looks like it’s made out of a dead Hollow,” Rukia dubiously opined.

“It’s so comfy,” Renji promised her.

“And why I am I third?”

“Because it’s my couch, I should get to be first, except that Rikichi actually found it, and he sat on it first, so I was second.”

It was weirdly high off the ground, and Rukia had to hop to get up on it. “Dang, Renji,” she scowled. “It _is_ really comfy.”

“I am going to take so many naps on this couch.”

“Can I sit on it now?” Hisagi whined.

“Yeah, go for it.”

Hisagi took a flying leap and landed next to Rukia. “This _is_ nice. Do you think Rikichi could help me find a couch?”

There was another knock on the door, and then Matsumoto muscled her way in, Kira close behind, holding a large crate. “You came!” Renji exclaimed, a huge grin on his face. Kira ducked his head a little, but he had a small smile on his face.

“Good evvvvening!” Matsumoto trilled, kissing Renji on the cheek. “What are you eating?”

“Rukia brought them, they’re just for me,” he jokingly waved the basket out of her reach.

“What _ever_ ,” she replied, managing to snatch one. “Mmm, these are good. Rukia-chan, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I… _have_ a cook?” Rukia shrugged.

“Nice,” Matsumoto replied, shooting a finger gun at her. “Izuru, don’t just stand around holding that thing, you can put it down.”

“What’d’ja bring?” Hisagi asked, trying to get off the couch and failing.

“Well…” Kira said, scratching his neck. “Captain Unohana suggested I should take up a hobby, so I’ve been trying to brew beer, like they have in the World of the Living? Anyway, these are ready to drink, although I’m not sure they’re… correct.”

“I’ll try one,” Renji offered gamely.

“Yeah, me, too,” Hisagi agreed.

“I’m in.”

“Make it a full round!”

Kira opened five bottles and passed them around. By this time, Hisagi and Rukia had managed to leverage each other off the couch, so they could all stand and clink bottles.

“To trying new things in the name of friendship,” Renji offered.

“Here, here!” Matsomoto agreed.

They all drank. There was a long silence.

“It’s not sake, but it’s not bad,” Hisagi finally declared.

“Does it have bubbles in it?” Renji asked, squinting at his bottle. “How did you get the bubbles in there?”

“It’s weird,” Matsumoto declared.

“Well, I like it,” Rukia finally decreed. “It tastes a lot like the stuff Ichigo’s dad drinks, only less like old cigarette butts.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Kira said, clearly pleased.

“Heyoooo, who’s drinking without us?”

“Don’t be late, then, dumbass!” Renji hollered.

“Yumichika had to do his hair!”

“You shoulda planned for that!”

“What _ever,_ ” Yumichika grumbled, gliding elegantly into the room and grabbing a beer, Ikkaku stomping after him.

“Hey, who’re you?” Ikkaku demanded, sneering at Rukia.

“That’s my _friend_ , _Rukia_ ,” Renji enunciated.

“ _The_ Rukia?” Yumichika asked innocently. Renji glared daggers at him.

Ikkaku was looking Rukia up and down. “Why is she so short?”

“You say that like it’s my fault! Rukia, this is Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika, my close personal friends from Squad 11. Please never speak or interact with them.”

Rukia was also appraising Ikkaku. “I could take him,” she declared.

“IKKAKU, COME SEE MY KITCHEN, IT’S FULL OF SAKE,” Renji said, trying to steer his most violent friend away before he took Rukia up on her offer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rukia,” Yumichika offered. “Renji has told us so many nice things about you.”

Rukia blinked. “He... has?”

“It wasn’t that many nice things!” Renji sputtered.

Ikkaku had gotten distracted. “Hey, Abarai! Nice calligraphy! Can you get me one of these?”

Rukia turned pink when she realized that Ikkaku was gesturing to her very own vulgar handiwork, which Renji had chosen to prominently display.

“The artist is very private, but I’ll see what I can do,” Renji grinned at Rukia. He cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone, let’s get this show on the road! Thank you, everyone, for coming to my new place. We are here for two reasons: Number 1, to admire my new couch. If any of you assholes spill anything on it, I will end you. Number 2, our esteemed colleague, Lieutenant Hisagi of the Ninth Division, has composed some heartfelt ballads that he’s going to make us listen to sooner or later, so we might as well get drunk and let him go for it.”

“Thank yoooooou!” Hisagi crowed.

“Kira brought beer, and I’ve got sake in the kitchen, so let’s all get good and toasted before the serenading begins. Also there’s some crackers and whatever else Rikichi scrounged up for me, but there are definitely no delicious Kuchiki buns, I am dead out of those.”

 

* * *

  

Thirty minutes later, Rukia found herself comfortably squished on the couch between Rangiku and Renji, her head pleasantly buzzing, as Hisagi warbled a sad song about the tragic decline of print journalism. Rangiku shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and Rukia found herself leaning into Renji, to give the other woman more space. She glanced up at his face, trying to see if he had noticed. “Oh, no,” she gasped.

Rangiku turned, and clapped her hand over her mouth, giggling.

“What happened?” Ikkaku demanded, trying to peer around Yumichika, who was sitting on Renji’s other side.

“Just Abarai falling asleep in ridiculous places again,” Yumichika chuckled. “Good to know some things never change.”

Sure enough, Renji’s head lolled to the side, his eyes peacefully shut.

“He’s probably been so busy he’s been forgetting to sleep again,” Izuru suggested.

“Brother came back to work for the first time today,” Rukia offered, “Renji should be able to get some rest this weekend.”

“Whatever! I don’t care, Renji can fall asleep during my singing if he wants,” Hisagi sang. “It’s flaa-aa-aa-attering!”

I am glad Renji is good at making friends, Rukia thought, unapologetically snuggling into his side, if he wasn’t even going to be awake to notice. And I’m glad to be one of them.

 

~the end


End file.
